
N 



■?/,_ *.,^"' x\^' 



^^. * ■' N ' •• 







% ^ 






vO o^ 






^'^ 






a\^' 



,'^ 



Ir ,,\^^' 



^x%^- 









•?,.."'»- 



^VjK^ S* .'^^'' 



^^"^ 



"- ?-. 



,•0' 



,^^ 



■-oo^ 



^<> ^''' 



,- .0- 






''^° .0^ .-".''^o 



vX^\.,.,>./-.o' ^0 



«=> Xv> .c\^ 



^. ^^ 



'V 



y . 












,0o^ 



'^, '^ '> N O ^ . ^ 




























* .... ^ ,0-' 



xO^^. 



.^■^ ■% 



o'^ ^ ^ • '> , -'c. 







.^^^^#^- %^ / 



*,,,»'^>\^ 






xO °^. 






<^f. a'^' 







0^^^ ^ 



v^ 



<. 




I 



' Pwight well, Sir Knight, ye have advised bin/ 
Quoth then that aged man : ' the way to win 
Is wisely to advise.' " 

Book I, Canto L Ver. BZ.— Front. 



THE 

FAERIE QUEENE: 

DISPOSED INTO TWELVE B K E S, 

FASHIONING 

XII MOrvALL YERTUES. 
By EDMUND SPENSER 

TO WHICH IS ADDED HIS 

EPITHALAMIOK 



A NEW EDITION, WITH A GLOSSARY. 



ILLUSTRATED BY EDWARD CORBOULD. 



NEW YORK : 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 

846 & 848 BKOADWAY. 
M.DCCO.LIX. 









-A?^ 






fO THE MOST HIGH MIGHTIE AND MAGNIFICENT 
EMPRESSE 

aENOWNED FOB PIETIE VERTVE AND ALL GRATIOVS GOVERNMENT 

ELIZABETH 

BY THE GRACE OF GOD 

4^f^ctm ot lEnfilantr JFrnbna mti Irelantr unts of Uirginui 

DEPENDOVR OP THE FAITH ETC, 
EEB MOST HUMBLE SERVAUNT 

EDMVND SPENSEE 

DOTH IN ALL HUMILITIE 
DEDICATE PRESENT AND CONSECBATS 

THESE HIS LABOVRS 
[TQ UVS WITH THE ETERNITIE OF HER FAMS. 



MEMOIR OF EDMUND SPENSEB. 



The reign of Elizabeth, various as may be the opinions held respecting 
the " virgin queen" herself, was unquestionably most favourable to the 
cultivation of wit and genius. A court sufficiently lax to allow of a 
tolerable freedom of language, but yet removed from anything like the 
broad coarseness which was hereafter to distinguish or disgrace the reign 
of Charles II. — a sovereign, herself no mean scholar, and a hearty 
lover of learning and genius in others — finally, a state of national 
prosperity, consequent on our freedom irom. a foreign enthraldoni; 
cuch were, indeed, advantages rarely combined in one reign, esjjecially 
in a reign of such long duration ; and it was not to be wondered at, if 
the times that developed the abilities of a Burleigh, a Hatton, or a 
Kaleigh, should have also found fame and renown for a poet like the hero 
©f the present narrative. 

Obscure as are the accounts of his birth and origin, it seems probable, 
from certain passages in his poems, that he was at least respectably 
connected. But his early prospects appear to have been but moderate. 
Born in London, he was sent to Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, where he 
subsequently competed for a fellowship against Andrewes, afterwards 
Bishop of Winchester. His failure (if indeed to be defeated by such a 
man as Andrewes can be called a failure), and the narrow state of his 
finances, compelled him to quit the university. He took up his resi- 
dence with some friends in the north, and, being just in that state of 
pocket when love is most imprudent, he very naturally fell in love at 
once, therein following the example of nine-tenths of humanity. 

Love, if a man be a poet at heart, is pretty sure to find its vent through 
that most charming of the liberal arts, and we may be said to owe the 
" Shepherd's Calendar," and other pastoral poems, to the lady whom 
Spenser everywhere celebrates, and whose cruelty he deplores, under 
the name of Rosalind. Spenser's love was, so far, profitable both to 
himself and to posterity; and when we read this delightful specimen 
of early English bucolic, we feel that, in the words of Sir Mulberry 
Hawk, "it is to Rosalind's mamma's obliging marriage that we are 
indebted for so lAuch happiness." 

Sir Philip Sidney, to whom this poem was dedicated, under the modest 
title of *' Immerito," took great notice of our hero, and being himself 
not merely "a lord among wits, and a wit among lords," but an able 
writer and judicious thinker, as well as no mean poet, his introduction 
proved of no small advantage to Spenser. As long as this great man 
lived, he extended the benefits of his fortune, advice, and influence to 
his poet-friend, and proved as constant, as he was liberal, a patron. 



MEMOIR OF EDMUND SPENSES. V 

Spenser quitted the north, and returned to the " Great Babylon," at 
the advice of some friends, who wished him to be near tlie court. To 
this he alludes in his sixth eclogue, where Hobbinol (i. e. his intimate 
friend Gabriel Harvey) persuades Colin {i. e. Spenser himself) to quit 
the hill country, and its barren solitudes, and seek a more genial soil. 

It has, however, been doubted whether his acquaintance with Sidney 
began so early as has been above stated ; and the following story seems 
to render it more probable that he had already began^ the *' Faerie 
Queene." It is said, that on going to Leicester House, with the view of 
introducing himself to the theij.Mr. Sidney, he sent in a copy of the ninth 
canto of the first book of this poem. •' Mr. Sidney was much surprised 
with the description of Despair in that canto, and is said to have shown 
an unusual kind of transport on the discovery of so new and uncommor 
a genius. After he had read some stanzas, he turned to his steward 
and bade him give the person that brought the verses fifty pounds; but 
upon reading the next stanza, he ordered the sum to be doubled. The 
steward was no less surprised than his master, and thought it his duty 
to make some delay in executing so sudden and lavish a bounty; but 
upon reading one stanza more, Mr. Sidney raised his gratuity to two 
Jiundred pounds, and commanded the steward to give it immediately, 
lest, as he read further, he might be tempted to give away his whole 
estate." 

Spenser did not, however, reap any immediate substantial benefit 
from this introduction, and, although chosen pofet-laureat, he for some 
time " wore a barren laurel, and possessed only the place without the 
pension" Burlei,c', whatever thougiits might be comprehended in his 
" shake of the head," appears to have taken no thouglit for our poet, and 
his neglect was rendered more serious by the constant absence of Sir 
Philip Sidney, either on diplomatic negotiations, or in tlie Low Country 
wars. He his plaintively alluded to these disappointments in his poena 
called the " Ruins of Time," as follows :— 

•* O grief of griefs ! O gall of all good hearts ! 
To see that vertue should despised be 
Of such as first were rais'd for vertue's parts. 
And now broad spreading like an aged tree. 
Let none shoot up that nigb. them planted be: 
O let not those of whom the Muse is scom'd. 
Alive or dead be by the Muse adorn'd." 

"With still greater bitterness, he inveighs against the neglect of learn- 
ing and poetry, in " The Tears of Calliope :" — 

** Their great revenues all in sumptuous pride 
They spend, that nought to learning they may spare ; 
And the rich fee which Poets wont divide, 
Now Parasites and Sycophants do share." 

But it would appear that Spenser, like m^ny others, was, to some 
extent, the cause of his own misfortune. Tlie following lines, in 
Mother Hubbard's Tale, are supposed to have been construed by the 
courtier into a personal alTront, for, as the author* of our poet's life 
observes, " even the sighs of a miserable man are sometimes resented as 
an affront by him that is the occasion of them." 

"Full little knowest thou that hast not try'd, 
"What hell it is, in misery long to bide, 

* Hughes, appended to the edition printed by Tonson, I2mo, ITli. 



Yl MEMOIR OF EDMUND 8PENSEB. 

To lose good days, that might be better spent. 
To waste long nights in pensive discontent ; 
To speed to-day, to be put Imck to-morrow ; 
To feed on Hope, to pine with Fear and Sorrow; 
To have thy prince's grace, yet want herpeer'Si 
,To have thy asking, yet wait many years: 
To fret thy soul with crosses and with cares ; 
To eat thy heart thro' comfortless despair ; 
To fawn, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to nm. 
To spend, to give, to want, to be undone." 

At the end of the sixth book of his great poem, the author plainly 
alludes to this unfortunate ill-will of Burleigh's. Describing Detraction 
AS a monster, he concludes with the following stanza: 

*' Ne may this homely verse, of many meanest, 
Hope to escape his venomous despite. 
More than my former writs, all were they cleanest 
From baleful blot, and free from all that wite 
"With which some wicked tongues did it backbite, • 
And bring into a mighty peer's displeasure. 
That never so deserved to endite. 
Therefore do you, my rimes, keep better measure. 

And seek to please, that now is counted wise men's treasure. 

On one occasion, Elizabeth had ordered a gratuity of one liundrcd 
pounds to be given to our poet ; but my Lord-Treasurer Burleigh objected 
to it, saying, " What ! all this for a single song!" The que^n replied, 
*• Then give what is reason," Spenser waited for some time, but finding 
the queen's intended bounty not forthcoming, he took an opportunity to 
present the following epigrammatic petition to her majesty: 

* * I was promis'd on a time 
To Jiave reason for my rhime ; 
From that time unto this season, 
I receiv'd nor rhime nor reason.'*^ 

This had its efiTect ; my lord-treasurer came in for a rebuke, and the 
poet got his money. 

Our poet's fortune began to improve ; his acquaintance with the great 
and the powerful increased, and in the year 1579 he was sent abroad 
by the Earl of Leicester, but upon what service does not appear. But 
when Lord Grey was chosen deputy of Ireland, he received the appoint- 
ment of secretary. If we may judge by his "Discourse on the State of 
Ireland," his skill in political science must have been considerable, and. 
the chang-e from the listlessness of a merely poetical existence to the 
duties and anxieties of active life, doubtless had a most healthy influ- 
ence upon his mind and disposition. A fair estate of 3000 acres in tho 
county of Cork, and a good house in Kilcohnan, his grounds being inter- 
eected by the beautiful river Mulla, were a sufficient provision to give 
him freedom from want, if not the importance of a wealthy landowner. 

About this time, he contracted an intimate friendship with Sir Walter 
Kaleigh, then a captain under Lord Grey. In the poem entitled " Colia 
Clout's come home again," Sir Walter is allegorically described under 
the name of the " Shepherd of the Ocean." We gladly quote, after 
other writers, the following exquisite lines, so descriptive of the origin 
of this refined and affectionate friendship. 

**I saile, as was my trade. 
Under the foot of Mole, that mountain hore. 
Keeping my sheep amongst the coolly shade 
Of the green alders, by the Mulla's shore; 



MEMOIR OP EDMUND SPENSEB. tS. 

There a strange shepherd chanc'd to find me out» 
Whether allured with my pipe's delight. 
Whose pleasing sound yshriiled far about. 
Or thither led by chance, I know not right : 
Whom when I asked from what place he came. 
And how he hight ; himself he did ycleep 
The Shepherd of the Ocean by name. 
And said he came far from the main-sea dee^ 
He sitting me beside, in that same shade 
Provoked me to play some pleasant fit; 
And when he heard the music that I made. 
He found himself full greatly pleas'd at it. 
Yet, emuling my pipe, he took in hand 
My pipe^ before that emuled of many, 
And plaid thereon, for well that skill he con'd. 
Himself as skilful in that art as any." 

Besides many advantages consequent on his introduction to Sir Walte? 
Ealeigh, our poet was now destined to have Cupid propitious, and we find 
a new attachment ripen into a marriage, which he himself celebrated iu 
his •• Epithalamion." 

The events of a poet's life are seldom very marked or important in 
their character, and Edmund Spenser's history is no exception to the 
rule. The progress of the "Faerie Queene" was the main employment 
of his life, t/ut its tranquillity was soon destined to be disturbed. The 
unfortunate rebellion of the Earl of Desmond, in which he was plun- 
dered and robbed of his estate, forced him to return to England. The 
griefs of one bankrupt in fortune, and in declining health, were aggravated 
by the death of his best friend, Sir Philip Sidney. Twelve years he 
survived his noble patron, but they were years of sadness and painful 
recollections. Death, the great leveller alike of enemies and friends, 
overtook both the courtly Burleigh and the poet he had slighted, if not 
injured, in the year 1598. 

He was buried in Westminster Abbey, near his predecessor, and, we 
might almost say master, in the art of poetry, Geofirey Chaucer. His 
obsequies were attended by many poets of his time, who cast copies of 
verses into his grave ; and his monument was erected at the cost of 
Kobert Devereux, the imfortunate Earl of Essex, with the following 
inscription: — 

♦' Heare lyes (expecting the second comminge of our Saviour Christ 
Jesus) the body of Edmund Spenser, the prince of poets in his tyme; 
whose divine spirit needs noe other witness, then the works whicli he 
left behind him. He was borne in London in the yeare 1510, and died in 
theyeare 159 6.** 

Camden's account of his death presents some important differences. 
He says that he died in 1598, in the forty- first year of the queen's reign. 
But the mistake about his birth is still greater. How could he, at tliia 
rate, have stood for a fellowship in competition with Andrewes, who was 
not born till 1555? •' Moreover," as Hughes observes, " if this account 
of his birth were true, he must have been above sixty years old when he 
first published his " Shepherd's Calendar," an age not the most proper for 
love-poetry ; and in his seventieth year when he entered into business 
under the Lord Grey, who was created deputy of Ireland in 1580." It 
seems, on the whole, probable that the original inscription, said to have 
been in Latin, and published in the year IGOO, in a small volume on the 
monument of Westminster, was the correct one, and as this speaks of 
him as dying " an vntimely death," the date 1510 must be laid to the 
caf elessness of the grayer, or to some mistake in those who superln* 



Till MEMOIE OF EDMUND SPENSEB. 

tended the new inscription. I attempt a translation of the inscription 
and epigram in question :— 

"Edmund Spenser, of London, unquestionably prince of the English 
poets of our age, whicli his poems, written under the favour of the Muses, 
and of his genius that shall live hereafter, prove. He died an immature 
death, in the year of grace 1598, and is buried near unto Godfrey 
Chaucer, who first most happily adorned poesy in the English lan- 
guage. Upon whom was written these epigrams : — 

**Kext Chaucer's bones sleeps Edmund Spenser's dust in death ; 
In genius each, in tomb, the other nign. 
Here, near great poet Chaucer, poet Spenser, lie. 
As near in sepulture, as poesy. 

While thou wert Uving, England's muse lived joyauntly ; 
Dying, while thou art dead, she fears to die." 

It may be observed, that the stanzas are distinct epitaphs, of which the 
first and second couplets are merely the same thoughts differently 
expressed. 

Little as is known of the life of our poet, his works are as much a 
part of our literature as can be well imagined. Of his pastorals, or his 
prose work, I will not speak on the present occasion, but, briefly to sum 
up the beauties of the "Faerie Queene," I may observe, that in no poem 
is the elevation of morality blended with the romance of chivalry with 
such singular success — in no work, of whatsoever age or clime, do we 
find the development of that graceful elevation of the female sex from 
the degradation of their feudal lords, so nobly an<i so devotedly set forth 
—nowhere, not even in Milton, are the vagaries of the Pagan world 
made so admirably subservient to the purposes of a Christian lesson— 
and, above all, no ancient English writer can be so safely, or so pro- 
fitably, read even by the young. As a study of the English language, 
the " Faerie Queene" is not only highly instructive, but is less repulsive 
and diflScult than other contemporaneous writers, while, as a glorious 
Btorehouse of fancy, of legend, and of brilliant allegory, we can only 
say, with Lucretius, 

*' Juvat integros accedere fontes, 
At^ue liaurire, juvatQLue uovos decerpere fiores." 



A 

LETTER OF THE AUTHOR'S, 

EXPOUNDING HIS WHOLE INTENTION IN THE COURSE 0? THIS 
"WORKE; WHICH, FOR THAT IT GIVETH GREAT LIGHT TO THE 
EEADER, FOR THE BETTER UNDERSTANDING IS HEREUNTO 
ANNEXED. 



TO THE EIGHT NOBLE AND VALOROUS 

SIR WALTER RALEIGH, Knight, 

10. WABDEIN OF THE >TANN£STES AND HEB HAIESTIE3 LIEFIENAtTNT OF 
THE COUNTY OP COBNEWAYLL. 

SlE, 

Knowing how doubtfully all Allegories ipay be construed, 
and this booke of mine, which I have entituled T/ie Faerie 
Qtieene, being a continued Allegory, or darke Conceit, I 
have thought good, as well for avoyding of gealous opinions 
and misconstructions, as also for your better light in read- 
ing thereof, (being so by j^ou commanded,) to discover unto 
you the general intention and meaning, which in the w^hole 
course i hereof I have fashioned, without expressing of any 
particular purposes, or by- accidents, therein occasioned. 
The general end, therefore, of all the booke, is to fashion a 
gentleman or noble person in vertuous and gentle disci- 
pline; which for that I conceived shoulde be most plausible 
and pleasing, being coloured with an historical fiction, the 
which the most part of men delight to re. d, rather for 
variety of matter than for profite of the ensample, I ?hose 
the History e of King Arthure, as most fitte for the excel- 
lency of his person, being made famous by many mens 
former workes, and also furthest from the daunger of envy, 
and suspition of present time. In which I have followed 
all the antique poets historically first Homere, who in the 
persons of Agamemnon and Ulysses hath ensampled a good 
governour and a vertuous man, the one in his Ilias, the 
other in his Odysseis; then Yirgil, whose like intention 
waa to doe in the person of .^neas; after him Ariosto com* 



X SPENSEE TO SIE WALTEE EALEIGH. 

prised them botli in his Orlando; and lately Tasso disse- 
vered them again, and formed both parts in two persons, 
namely, that part which they in philosophy call JEtJiice, or 
Vertues of a private man, coloured in his Kianaldo; the 
other named Folitice, in hig Godfredo. By ensample of 
which excellent e poets, I labour to pourtraict in Arthure, 
before he was king, the image of a brave knight, perfected 
in the twelve private Morall Vertues, as Aristotle hath 
devised; the which is the purpose of these first twelve 
bookes : which if I finde to be well accepted, I may be per- 
haps encoraged to frame the other part of Polliticke Vertues 
in his person, after that hee came to be king. To some I 
know this methode will seem displeasaunt, which had rather 
Lave good discipline delivered plainly in way of precepts, or 
sermoned at large, as they use, then thus clowdily enwrapped 
in allegorical devises. But such, me seeme, should be satis- 
fide with the use of these days, seeing all things accounted 
by their showes, and nothing esteemed of, that is not de- 
lightfull and pleasing to commune sence. For this cause 
is Xenophon preferred before Plato, for that the one, in the 
exquisite depth of his iudgement, formed a communewelth, 
such as it should be; but the other, in the person of Cyrus, 
and the Persians, fashioned a government, such as might 
best be: so much more profitable and gratious is doctrine 
by ensample then by rule. So have I laboured to do in the 
person of Arthure: whom I conceive, after his long educa- 
tion by Timon, to whom he was by Merlin dehvered to be 
brought up, so soone as he was borne of the Lady Igrayne, 
to have scene in a dream or vision the Paerie Queene, with 
whose excellent beauty ravished, he awaking resolved to 
seeke her out, and so being by Merlin armed, and by Timon 
throughly instructed, he went to seeke her forth in Faerie 
Land. In that Faerie Queene I meane Glory in my gene- 
rail intention, but in my particular I conceive the most 
excellent and glorious person of our soveraine the Queens, 
and her kingdom in Faerie Land. And yet, in some places 
els, I do otherwise shadow her. For considering she 
beareth two persons, the ©ne of a moist royal Queene or 
Empresse, the other of a most vertuous and beautifuU lady, 
this latter part in some places I doe express in Belphcebe, 
fashioning her name according to your owne excellent con- 
ceipt of Cynthia: PhcBbe and Cynthia being both names of 
Diana. So in the person of Prince Arthure I sette forth 
Magnificence in particular ; which Vertue for that (accord- 
ing to Aristotle and the rest) it is the perfection of all the 
rest, and conteineth in it them all, therefore in the whole 
course I mention the deeds of Arthure applyable to that 
Vertue, which I write of in that booke. But of the xii. 
other Vertues, I make xii. other kjiights the patrones, for 



SPENSEB TO SIR WALTER SALEIGH. XI 

the more variety of the history : of which these three bookes 
contayn three. 

The first, of the Knight of the Eedcrosse, in whom I 
expresse Holynes: the seconde of Sir Guy on, in whome I 
sette forth Temperaunce; the third of Britomartis a lady- 
knight, in whom I picture Chastity. But, because the be- 
ginning of the whole worke seemeth abrupte and as depend- 
ing upon other antecedents, it needs that ye know the 
occasion of these three knights severall adventures. For 
the methode of a poet historical is not such, as of an histo- 
riographer. For an historiographer discourseth of affayres 
orderly as they were donne, accounting as well the times 
as the actions; but a poet thrusteth into the middest, even 
where it most concerneth him, and there recoursing to the 
thinges forepaste, and divining of thinges to come; maketh 
a pleasing analysis of all. 

The begmning therefore of my history, if it were to be 
told hy an historiographer, should be the twelfth booke, 
which is the last; where I devise that the Faerie Queene 
kept her annual feaste xh. days; uppon which xii. severall 
dayes, the occasions of the xii. severall adventures hapned, 
which, being undertaken by xii. severall knights, are in 
these xii. books severally handled and discoursed. The first 
was this. In the beginning of the feast, there presented 
himselfe a tall clownishe young man, who falling before the 
Queene of Faeries desired a boone (as the manner then was) 
which during that feast she might not refuse; which was 
that hee might have the atchivement of any adventure, 
which during that feaste should happen. That being 
graunted, he rested him on the floore, unfitte through his 
rusticity for a better place. Soone after entred a faire ladye 
in mourning weedes, riding on a white asse, with a dwarfe 
behind her leading a warlike steed, that bore the arms of a 
knight, and his speare in the dwarfes hand. Shee, falling 
before the Queene of Faeries, complayned that her f\ither 
and mother, an ancient king and queene, had bene by an 
huge dragon many years shut up in a brasen castle, who 
thence suiTred them not to yssew; and therefore besought 
the Faerie Queene to assygne her some one of her knights 
to take on him that exployt. Presently that clownish per- 
son, upstarting, desired that adventure; whereat the Queene 
much wondering, and the lady much gainesaying, yet he 
earnestly importuned his desire. In the end the lady told 
him, that unlesse that armour which she brought, would 
serve him (that is, the armour of a Christian man specified 
by St. Paul, v. Ephes.) that he could not succeed in that 
enterprise: which being forthwith put upon him with dew 
furnitures thereunto, he seemed the goodliest man in al 
that company, and was well liked of the lady. And efte* 



adi 8PENSEB TO SIB WALTER BALEIGH. 

soones tating on him kniglithood, and mounting on that 
Btraunge courser, he went forth with her on that adventure; 
where beginneth the first booke, viz. 

A gentle knight was pricking on the playne, &c. 

The second day there came in a palmer bearing an infant 
with bloody hands, whose parents he complayned to have 
bene slayn by an enchaantresse called Acrasia; and there- 
fore craved of the Paerie Queene, to appoint him some 
knight to performe that adventure; which being assigned 
to Sir Gruyon, he presently went forth with that same 
palmer: which is the beginning of the second booke, and 
the whole subiect thereof. The ih'vd. day there came in a 
groome, who complained before the Faerie Queene, that a 
vile enchaunter, called Busirane, had in hand a most faire 
lady, called Amoretta, whom he kept in most grievous tor- 
ment, because she would not yield him the pleasure of her 
body. "Whereupon Sir Scudamour, the lover of that lady, 
presently tooke on him that adventure. But being unable 
to performe it^ by reason of the hard enchauntments, after 
long sorrow, in the end met with Britomartis, who suc- 
coured him, and reskewed his love. 

But, by occasion hereof, many other adventures are in- 
termedled; but rather as accidents than intendments; as 
the love of Britoraart, the overthrow of Marin ell, the 
misery of Plorimell, the vertuousnes of Belphoebe, the lasci- 
viousness of Hellenora; and m.any the like. 

Thus much. Sir, I have briefly overronne to direct your 
understanding to the wel-head of the history; that, from 
thence gathering the whole intention of the conceit, ye may 
as in a handful gripe al the discourse, which otherwise may 
happily seem tedious and confused. So, humbly craving 
the continuance of your honourable favour towards me, 
and th* eternall establishment of your happines, I humbly 
take leave. 

Yours most humbly affectionate, 

ED. SPJENSES. 



£3.Iaiiua]7» 1589^ 



THE FIRST BOOKE 

OF 

THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

CONTAYNINO 

Wje IHecjcntr of ii)t 3KniBT;t of ti^e H^tts CDrosse, or of l^oUucsse* 



LO ! I, the man wliose Muse wliylome did mas"ke. 
As time her taught, in lowly shepherds weeds. 
Am now enforst, a farre unfitter taske, 
Por trumpets sterne to chaunge mine oaten reeds, 
And sing of knights and ladies gentle deeds ; 
Wiiose praises having slept in silence long, 
Me, all to meane, the sacred Muse areeds 
To blazon broade emongst her learned throng : 
Pierce warres and faithful loves shall moralize my song. 

Help then, O holy virgin ! chiefe of nyne, 

Thy weaker novice to perform thy will ; 

Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne 

The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still. 

Of Faerie knights and fayrest Tanaquill, 

Whom that most noble Briton prince so long 

Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill. 

That I must rue his undeserved wrong : 

O, helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tongi 

And thou, most dreaded impe of highest love, 

Fairc Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dart 

At that good knight so cunningly didst rove. 

That glorious fire it kindled in his hart ; 

Lay now thy deadly heben bowe apart, 

And, with thy mother mylde, come to mine ayde ; 

Come, both ; aiid with you bring triumphant Mart, 

In loves and gentle iollities arraid. 

After his murdrous spoyles and bloudie rage allayd. 

And with them eke, O goddesse heavenly bright, 

Mirrour of grace and majestic divine, 

Great Ladie of the greatest Isle, whose light 

Like Phoabus lampe throughout the world doth shine. 

Shed thy faire bcames into my feeble eyne. 

And raise my thoughtes, too humble and too vile. 

To thinke of that true gbrious type of thine, 

The argument of mine afflicted stile : 

Tjiie which to hcare vouciisafe. O dearest dread, awhilo 



THE PAEEIE QTJEENa 



CAISTTO I. 

The patron of true Holinessd 
Foule Errour doth defeatej 

Eypocrisie, him to entrappe. 
Doth to his home entreate. 

A GENTLE Imiglit was pricMng on the plaine, 
Ycladd in mightie armes and silver shielde. 
Wherein old dints of deepe woundes did remained 
The cruel markes of many' a bloody fielde ; 
Yet armes till that time did he never wield : 
His angr}^ steede did chide his foming bitt, 
As much disdayning to the curbe to yield : ^ 
[Full ioUy knight he seemd, and faire did sitfc. 
As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitU 

And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore, 

The deare remembrance of his dying Lord, 

For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore 

And dead, as living, ever him ador'd : 

Upon his shield the like was also scor'd, 

[For soveraine hope, which in his helpe he had. 

[Right, faithfull, true he was in deede and word; 

But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad ; 

Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad. 

Upon a great adventure he was bond. 
That greatest Gloriana to him gave, 
(That greatest glorious Queen e of Faery lond) 
To winne him worshippe, and her grace to have^ 
Which of all earthly things he most did crave. 
And ever as he rode, his hart did earne 
To prove his puissance in bat tell brave 
Upon his foe, and his new force to learne ; 
Upon his foe, a dragon horrible and stearne. 

A lovely ladie rode him faire beside. 
Upon a lowly asse more white then snow ; 
Yet she much whiter ; but the same did hida 
Under a vele, that wimpled was full low; 
And over all a blacke stole shee did throw. 
As one that inly mournd ; so was she sad. 
And heavie sate upon her palfrey slow; 
Seemed in heart some hidden care she had ; 
And by her in a line a milke-white lambe she lad. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

So pure and innocent, as that same lambe, 

She was in life and every vertuous lore. 

And by descent from royall lynage came 

Of ancient kinges and queenes, that had of yore 

Their scepters stretcht from east to westerne shore, 

A,nd all the world in their subjection held ; 

Till that infernal feeud with foule uprore 

Torwasted all their land, and them expeld ; 

Whom to avenge, she had this knight from far compeld. 

Behind her farre away a dwarfe did lag, 

That lasie seemd, in being ever last. 

Or wearied with bearing of her bag 

Of needments at his backe. Tims as they past. 

The day with cloudes was suddeine overcast, 

And angry love an hideous storme o.f raine 

Did poure into his lemans lap so fast. 

That everie wight to shrowd it did constrain ; 

And this faire couple eke to shroud themselves were fain. 

Enforst to seeke some covert nigh at hand, 

A shadie grove not farr away they spide. 

That promist ayde the tempest to withstand ; 

Whose loftie trees, yclad with sommers pride 

Did spred so broad, that heavens light did hide, 

JSTot perceable with power of any starr ; 

And all within were pathes and alleies wide. 

With footing worne and leading inward farr : 

Faire harbour that them seems ; so in they entred ar* 

And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led, 
loying to heare the birdes sweete harmony. 
Which therein shrouded from the tempest dred, 
Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky. 
Much can they praise the trees so straiglit and hy. 
The say ling pine; the cedar proud and tall ; 
The vine-propp elme ; the poplar never dry; 
The builder oake, sole king of forrests all; 
The aspine good for staves ; the cypresse funerall; 

The laurell, meed of mightie conquerours 

And poets sage ; the firre that weepeth still 5 

The willow, worne of forlorne paramours ; 

The eugh, obedient to the benders will ; 

The birch for shaftes ; the sallow for the mill ; 

The mirrhc sweete-bleeding in the bitter wound ; 

The warlike beech ; the ash for nothing ill ; 

The fruitful olive ; and the platane round ; 

The carver holme ; the maple, seldom inward souni 



4 THE FAERIE QUEENB« 

Led with dellglit, tliey tlius beguile the way, 
XJntill the bkistriDg storme is overblowne ; 
"When, weening to returne, whence they did stray. 
They cannot finde that path, which first was showne. 
But wander too and fro in waies nnknowne, 
Furthest from end then, when they neerest weene. 
That makes them doubt their wits be not their owne; 
So many paths, so many turnings seene, 
That which of them to take in diverse doubt they been. 

At last resolving forward still to fare, 

Till that some end they finde, or in or out, 

That path they take, that beaten seemd most bare. 

And like to lead the labyrinth about ; 

Which when by tract they hunted had throughout. 

At length it brought tbem to a hollo we cave 

Amid the thickest woods. The champion stout 

Eftsoones dismounted from his courser brave, 

And to the dwarfe awhile his needlesse spere he gave. 

** Be well aware," quoth then that ladle milde, 

** Least suddaine mischiefe ye too rash provoke : 

The danger Lid, the place unknowne and wilde, 

Breedes dreadfull doubts : oft fire is without smoke. 

And perill without show ; therefore your stroke. 

Sir Knight, with-hold, till further tryall made." 

** Ah, Ladie," sayd he, *' shame were to revoke 

The forward footing for an hidden shade : 

Vertue gives her selfe light through darknesse for to wade." 

"Yea, but," quoth she, "the perill of this place 

I better wot then you : Though nowe too late 

To wish you backe returne with foule disgrace, 

Yet wisedome warnes, whiles t foot is in the gate, 

To stay the steppe, ere forced to retrate. 

This is the Wandring Wood, this Errours Den, 

A monster vile, whom God and m*an does hate : 

Therefore I read beware." " Fly, fly," quoth then 

The fearefull dwarfe ; " this is no place for living men." 

But, full of fire and greedy hardiment. 

The youthfuU knight could not for ought be staide ; 

But forth unto the darksome hole he went, 

And looked in: his glistriug armor made 

A litlc glooming light, much like a shade ; 

By which he saw the ugly monster plaine, 

Halfe like a serpent horribly displaide. 

But th' other halfe did womans shape retaine. 

Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile disdaine. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 6 

And, as slie lay upon the durtie ground. 

Her huge long taile her den all overspred, 

Yet was in knots and many boughtes up wound. 

Pointed with mortall sting : of her there bred 

A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed. 

Sucking upon her poisnous dugs ; each one 

Of sundrie shapes, yet all ill-favored : 

Soone as that uncouth light upon them shone, 

Into her mouth they crept, and suddain all were gone. 

Their dam upstart out of her den effraide, 

And rushed forth, hurling her hideous taile 

About her cursed head ; whose folds displaid 

Were stretcht now forth at length without entraile* 

She lookt about, and seing one in mayle. 

Armed to point, sought backe to turne againe ; 

Tor light she hated as the deadly bale. 

Ay wont in desert darknes to remaine, 

"Where plain none might her see, nor she see any plaine. 

Which when the valiant Elfe perceiv*d, he lept 

As lyon fierce upon the flying pray. 

And with his trenchand blade her boldly kept 

From turning backe, and forced her to stay : 

Therewith enrag'd she loudly gan to hr^y, 

And turning fierce her speckled taile advaunst, 

Threatning her angrie sting, him to dismay; 

Who, nought aghast, his mightie hand enhaunst; 

The stroke down from her head unto her shoulder glaunst 

Much daunted with that dint her sence was dazd ;. 

Yet kindling rage her selfe she gathered round, 

And all attonce her beastly bodie raizd 

With doubled forces high above the ground : 

Tho, wrapping up her vvrethed sterne arownd, 

Lept fierce upon his shield, and her huge traine 

All suddenly about his body wound. 

That hand or foot to stirr he strove in value. 

God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine ! 

His lady, sad to see his sore constraint, 

Cride out, *']N"ow, now. Sir Knight, shew what ye bee; 

Add faith unto your force, and be not faint ; 

Strangle her, els she sure will strangle thee." 

That when he heard, in great pcrplexitie. 

His gall did grate for griefe and high disdaine ; 

And, knitting all his force, got one hand free. 

Wherewith he grypt her gorge with so great paine, 

That soone to loose her wicked bands did her cons traine. 



6 THE FAEETE QUEENE. 

Tiierewitli slie spewd ont of Iier filtliie maw 

A fioud of poyson horrible and blacke, 

Full of great lumps of flesli and gobbets raw, 

Which stunk so vildly, that it forst him slacke 

His grasping hold, and from her turne him backe : 

Her vomit full of bookes and papers was, 

With loathly frog and toades, which eyes did lacke. 

And creeping sought way in the weedy gras : 

Her iilthie parbreake all the place defiled has. 

As when old father Nilus gins to swell 

With timely pride above the Aegyptian vale, 

His fattie waves doe fertile slime outwell. 

And overflow each plaine and lowly dale : 

!But, when his later spring gins to avale. 

Huge heapes of mudd he leaves, wherin there breed 

Ten thousand kindes of creatures, partly male 

And partly femall, of his fruitful seed ; 

Such ugly monstrous shapes elswhere may no man reed. 

The same so sore annoyed has the knight, 

That, wel-nigh choked with the deadly stinke. 

His forces faile, ne can no lenger fight. 

Whose corage when the feend perceivd to shrinke. 

She poured forth out of her hellish sinke 

Her fruitfuU cursed spawne of serpents small, 

(Deformed monsters, fowle, and blacke as inke,) 

Which swarming all about his legs did crall, 

And him encombred sore, but could not hurt at all. 

As gentle shepheard in sweete eventide. 
When ruddy Phebus gins to welke in west, 
High on an hill, his flocke to vewen wide, 
Markes which doe byte their hasty supper best, 
A cloud of cumbrous gnattes doe him molest, 
All striving to infixe their feeble stinges, 
That from their noyance he no where can rest ; 
But with his clownish hands their tender wings ^ 
He brusheth oft, and oft doth mar their murmurings. 

Thus ill bestedd, and fearefuU more of shame 

Then of the certeine perill he stood in, 

Halfe furious unto his foe he came, 

Hesolvd in miude all suddenly to win, 

Or soone to lose, before he once would lin ; 

And stroke at her with more then manly force. 

That from her body, full of filthie sin, 

He raft her hateful! heade without remorse : 

A streame of cole-black blood forth gushed from lier corse. 



THE FAEllIE QUEENE. » 

Her scattred brood, soone as their parent deare 

TJiey saw so rudely falling to the ground, 

Groning full deadly all with troublous feare 

Gathred themselves about her body round. 

Weening their wonted entrance to have found 

At her wide mouth ; but, being there withstood. 

They flocked all about her bleeding wound, 

And sucked up their dying mothers bloud ; 

Making her death their life, and eke her hurt their good. 

That detestable sight him much amazde, 

To see th' unkindly impes, of heaven accurst, 

Devoure their dam; on whom while so he gazd. 

Having all satisiide their bloudy thurst. 

Their bellies swolne he saw with fulnesse burst. 

And bowels gushing forth : well worthy end 

Of such, as drunke her life, the which them nurst ! 

Now needeth him no lenger labour spend, [contetid. 

His foes have slaine themselves, with whom he should 

His lady seeing all, that chaunst, from farre, 

Approcht in hast to greet his victorie ; 

And saide, " Faire knight, borne under happie starre. 

Who see your vanquisht foes before you lye ; 

Well worthie be you of that armory, 

Wherein ye have great glory wonne this day. 

And proov'd your strength on a strong enimie ; 

Your first adventure : many such I pray, 

And henceforth ever wish that like succeed it may V* 

Then mounted he upon his steede againe, 
And with the lady backward sought to wend : 
That path he kept, which beaten was most plaine, 
Ne ever would to any by-way bend ; 
But still did follow one unto the end. 
The which at last out of the wood them brought. 
So forward on his way (with God to frend) 
He passed forth, and new adventure sought : 
Long way he travelled, before he heard of ought. 

At length they chaunst to meet upon the way 
An aged sire, in long blacke weedea yclad. 
His feete all bare, his beard all hoarie gray. 
And by his belt his booke he hanging had; 
^ Sober he seenide, and very sagely sad ; > . -=«^ 
And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent. 
Simple in shew, and voide of malice bad ; 
And all the way he prayed, as he went. 
And often knockt his brest, as one that did repent. 



& THE FAESIE QITEENE. 

He faire tlie knight saluted, louting low, 

Who faire him quited, as that courteous was ; 

And after asked liim, if he did know 

Of straunge adventures, which abroad did pas. 

*' Ah! my dear sonne," quoth he, "how should, alas! 

Silly old man, that lives in hidden cell. 

Bidding his beades all day for his trespas, 

Tvdings of warre and worldly trouble tell? 

"With holy father sits not with such thinges to mell. 

" But if of daunger, which hereby doth dwell. 
And homebredd evil ye desire to heare. 
Of a straunge man I can you tidings tell. 
That wasteth all this countrie farre and neare." 
" Of such," saide he, " I chiefly doe inquere ; 
And shall thee well rewarde to shew the place. 
In which that wicked wight his dayes doth weare : 
For to all knighthood it is foule disgrace. 
That such a cursed creature hves so long a space.*' 

"Far hence," quoth he, "in wastfuU wildernesse 

His dwelling is, by which no living wight 

May ever passe, but thorough great distresse." 

** Now," saide the ladie, " draweth toward night ; 

And well I wote, that of your later fight 

Ye all forwearied be ; for what so strong. 

But, wanting rest, will also want of might? 

The sunne, that measures heaven all day long, 

At night doth baite his steedes the ocean waves emong« 

" Then with the sunne take, sir, your timely rest. 
And with new day new worke at once begin : 
Untroubled night, they say, gives counsel! best.** 
*' Eight well, Sir Knight, ye have advised bin," 
Quoth then that aged man ; " the way to win 
Is wisely to. advise. jSTow day is spent : 
Therefore with me ye may take up your in 
For this same night." The knight was well content: 
So with that godly father to his home they went. 

A little lowly hermitage it was, 

Howne in a dale, hard by a forest's side. 

Far from resort of people, that did pas 

In traveiQ to and froe : a little wyde 

There was an holy chappell edifyde. 

Wherein the hermite dewly wont to say 

His holy things each m«rne and eventyde 

Thereby a christall streame did gently play. 

Which from a sacred fountaiae welled forth alway. 



THE PAERIE QUEBNE. \ 

Arrired there, tlie litle house they fill, 
Ne looke for entertainement, where none was ; 
Rest is their feast, and all thinges at their will : 
The noblest mind the best contentment has. 
With faire discourse the evening so they pas ; 
!For that olde man of pleasing wordes had store, 
And well could file his tongue, as smooth as glas : 
He told of saintes and popes, and evermore 
He strowd an Ave-Mary after and before. 

The drouping night thus creepeth on them fast ; 

And the sad humor loading their eye-hddes. 

As messenger of Morpheus, on them cast 

Sweet slombring deaw, the which to sleep them biddea. 

Unto their lodgings then his guestes he riddes : 

Where when all drownd in deadly sleep e he findes. 

He to his studie goes ; and there amiddes ^ 

His magick bookes, and artes of sundrie kindes, 

He seeks out mighty charmes to trouble sleepy minds. 

Then choosing out few words most horrible, 
(Let none them read !) thereof did verses frame : 
With which, and other spelles like terrible. 
He bad awake blacke Plutoes griesly dame ; 
And cursed Heven ; and spake reprochful sham© 
Of highest God, the Lord of life and light. 
A bold bad man ! that dar'd to call by name ^ 
Great Gorgon, prince of darknes and dead night ; 
At which Cocytus quakes, and Styx is put to flight. 

And forth he cald out of deepe darknes dredd 
Legions of sprights, the which, like litle flyes, 
Fluttring about his ever-damned hedd, 
Awaite whereto their service he applyes. 
To aide his friendes, or fray his enimies : 
Of those he chose out two,' the falsest twoo. 
And fittest for to forge true-seeming lyes r 
The one of them he gave a message too. 
The other by himselfe staide other worke to doo. 

He, making speedy way through spersed ayre, 

And through the world of waters wide and deepe. 

To Morpheus house doth hastily repaire, 

Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe, 

And low, where dawning day doth never peepe, 

His dwelling is ; there Tethys his wet bed 

Doth ever wash, and Cynthia still doth steepe 

In silver deaw his ever-drouping hed, 

Whiles sad JS^ight over him her mantle black doth spied; 



ID TKE PAEEIB QXTEEXB. 

Wliose double gates he findeth locked fast ; 

The one faire fram'd of burnisht yvory, 

The other all with silver overcast ; 

And wakeful dogges before them farre doe lye, 

WatcluDg to banish Care their enimy, 

"Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe. 

By them the sprite doth passe in quietly, 

Aid unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe 

In drowsie fit he findes ; of nothing he takes keepe. 

And, m9re, to lulle him in his slumber soft, 

A trickhng streame from high rock tumbling downe, 

And ever-drizling raine upon the loft, 

Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sown© 

Of swarming bees, did cast him in a swowne. 

]N"o other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes, 

As still are wont t' annoy the walled towne. 

Might there be heard : but carelesse Quiet lyes 

Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enimyes. 

The niessenger approching to him spake ; 

But his waste wordes retournd to him in yaine : 

So sound he slept, that nought mought him awake. 

Then rudely he him thrust, and pusht with paine, 

"Whereat he gan to stretch : but he againe 

Shooke him so hard, that forced him to speake. 

As one then in a dreame, whose dryer braine 

Is tost with troubled sights and fancies weake. 

He mumbled soft, but would not all his silence breake. 

The sprite then gan more boldly him to wake. 

And threatned unto him the dreaded name 

Of Hecate : whereat he gan to quake. 

And, lifting up his lompish head, with blame 

Halfe angrie asked him, for what he came, 

" Hether," quoth he, " me Archimago sent, 

He that the stubborne sprites can wisely tame. 

He bids thee to him send for his intent 

A fit false Dreame, that can delude the sleepers sent.** 

The god obayde ; and, calling forth straight way 
A diverse dreame out of his prison darke, 
Dehvered it 16 him, and downe did lay 
His heavie head, devoide of careful carke ; 
"Whose sences all were straight benumbd and starke. 
He, backe returning by the yvorie dore, 
demounted up as light as chearefull larke ; 
And on his Htle winges the Dreame he bore 
In hast urtto his lord, where he him left afore. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 11 

Who all this while, with charmes and hidden artes. 

Had made a lady of that other spright, 

And fram'd of liquid ayre her tender partes. 

So lively, and so like in all mens sight, 

That weaker sence it could have ravisht quight : 

The makers selfe, for all his wondrous witt. 

Was nigh*beguiled with so goodly sight. 

Her all in white he clad, and over it 

Cast a black stole, most like to seeme for Una fit. 

Now when that ydle Dreame was to him brought. 

Unto that elfin knight he bad him fly, 

Where he slept soundly void of evil thought, 

And with false shewes abuse his fantasy ; 

In sort as he him schooled privily. 

And that new creature, borne without her due, 

Full of the makers guile, with usage sly 

He taught to imitate that lady trew, 

Whose semblance she did carrie imder feigned hew. 

Thus, well instructed, to their worke they haste ; 

And, comming where the knight in slomber lay, - 

The one upon his hardie head him plaste. 

And made him dreame of loves and lustfull play ; 

That nigh his manly hart did melt away, 

Bathed in wanton blis and wicked ioy : 

Then seemed him his lady by him lay;. 

And to him playnd, how that false winged boy 

Her chaste hart had subdewd to learne dame Pleasures toy. 

And she her selfe, of beautie soveraigne queene, 

Fayre Venus, seemde unto his bed to bring 

Her, whom he, waking, evermore did weene 

To bee the chastest flowre that aye did spring 

On earthly braunch, the daughter of a king, 

3S"ow a loose leman to vile service bound : 

And eke the Graces seemed all to sing. 

Hymen Id Hymen, dauncing all around ; 

Whylst freshest Flora her with yvie girlond crownd. 

In this great passion of unwonted lust. 

Or wonted feare of doing ought amis. 

He starteth up, as seemmg to mistrust 

Some secret ill, or hidden foe of his : 

Lo, there before his facchis ladie is, 

Under blacke stole hyding her bayted hooke; 

And as halfe blushing offred him to kis. 

With gentle blandishment and lovely looke. 

Most like that virgin true, which for her knight him toolt* 



12 THE FAEEIB QUEENE. 

All cleane dismayd to see so lincoutli siglit. 

And lialfe enraged at her shamelesse guise. 

He thougHt have slaine her in his fierce despight, • 

But, hastie heat tempring with suiFerance wise. 

He stayde his hand ; and gan himselfe advise 

To prove his sense, and tempt her faigned truth. 

Wringing her hands, in wemens pitteous wise, 

Tho can she weepe, to stirre up gentle ruth 

Both for her noble blood, and for her tender youth. 

And sayd, " Ah, sir, my liege lord, and my love. 

Shall I accuse the hidden cruell fate, 

And mightie causes wrought in heaven above. 

Or the blind god, that doth me thus amate, 

For hoped love to winne me certaine hate ? 

Yet thus perforce he bids me do, or die. 

Die is my dew ; yet rew my wretched state. 

You, whom my hard avenging destinie 

Hath made iudge of my life or death indifferently 5 

" Your owne deare sake forst me at first to leave 

My fathers kingdom" — there she stopt with teares; 

Her swollen hart her speech seemd to bereave. 

And then againe begun ; " My weaker yeares, 

Captiv'd to fortune and frayle worldly feares. 

My to your fayth for succour and sure ayde : 

Let me not die in languor and long teares." 

" Why, dame," quoth he, " what hath ye thus dismay 'd P 

What frayes ye, that were wont to comfort me affrayd ?'* 

" Love of yourselfe/* she saide, '' and deare constraint, 

Lets me not sleepe, but waste the wearie night 

In secret anguish and unpittied plaint, 

Whiles you in carelesse sleepe are drowned quight." 

Her doubtfull words made that redoubted knight 

Suspect her truth ; yet since no' untruth he knew. 

Her fawning love with foule disdainefull spight 

He would not shend ; but said, ** Deare dame, I rew 

That for my sake unknowne such griefe unto you grew : 

"Assure your selfe, it fell not all to ground; 

For all so deare, as life is to my hart, 

I deeme your love, and hold me to you bound : 

Ne let vaine fears procure your needlesse smart. 

Where cause is none ; but to your rest depart." 

Not all content, yet seemd she to appease 

Her mournefull plaintes, beguiled of her art, 

And fed with words, that could not chose but please : 

So, slyding softly forth, she turnd as to her ease. 



THE FAEKIE QUEENE. 13 

Long after lay lie musing at lier mood," 

Much griev'd to tliinke that gentle danie so light, 

Tor whose defence he was to shed his blood. 

At last dull wearines of former fight 

Having yrockt asleepe his irkesome spright, 

That troublous Dreame gan freshly tosse his braine 

With bowres, and beds, and ladies deare delight : 

But, when he saw his labour all was vaine, 

With that misformed spright he backe returnd againe. 



CANTO 11. 

The guilefull great enchaunter parts 
The Redcrosse knight from Truth : 

Into whose stead faire Falshood steps. 
And workes him woefull ruth. 

By this the northerne wagoner had set 

His sevenfold, teme behind the stedfast starre 

That was in ocean waves yet never wet. 

But firme is fixt, and sendeth light from farre 

To all that in the wide deepe wandring arre ; 

And chearefull chaunticlere with his note shrill 

Had warned once, that Phoebus fiery carre 

In hast was clunbing up the easterne hill, 

Full envious that Night so long his roome did fill : 

When those accursed messengers of hell. 

That feigning Dreame, and that faire-forged spright, 

Came to their wdcked maister, and gan tell 

Their bootelesse pain es, and ill-succeeding night : /' 

Who, all in rage to see his skilfuU might 

Deluded so, gan threaten hellish paine 

And sad Proserpines wrath, them to affright. 

But, when he saw his threatning was but vaine, ^ 

He cast about, and searcht his baleful bokes againe. 

Eftsoones he tooke that miscreated Paire, 
And that false other spright, on whom he spred 
A seeming body of the subtile aire. 
Like a young squire, in loves and lustyhed 
His wanton daies that ever loosely led, 
Without regard of armes and dreaded fight ; 
Those two he tooke, and in a secrete bed. 
Covered with darkenes and misdeeming night, 
Them both together laid, to ioy in vaine delight. 
2 



14 THE FAEEIE QITEBNB, 

Forthwith he runnes with feigned-faithfull hast 
Unto his guest, who, after troublous sights 
And dreames, gan now to take more sound repast ; 
Whom suddenly he wakes with fearful frights. 
As one aghast with feends or damned sprights, 
And to him calls ; ** Rise, rise, unhappy swaine. 
That here wex old in sleepe, whiles wicked wights 
Have knit themselves in Venus shameful chaine : 
Come, see where your false lady doth her honor staine. 

All in a maze he suddenly up start 

With sword in hand, and with the old man went ; 

Who soone him brought into a secret part, 

Where that false couple were full closely ment 

In wanton lust and lend embracement : 

Which when he saw, he burnt with gealous fire j 

The eie of reason was with rage yblent ; 

And would have slaine them in his furious ire, 

But hardly was restreined of that aged sire. 

iRetourning to his bed in torment great. 

And bitter anguish of his guilty sight. 

He coidd not rest ; but did his stout heart eat. 

And wast his inward gall with deepe despight, 

Yrkesome of life, and too long lingring night. 

At last faire Hesperus in highest skie 

Had spent his lampe, and brought forth dawning light; 

Then up he rose, and clad him hastily ; 

The dwarfe him brought his steed : so both away do fly. 

"Now when the rosy-fingered Morning faire. 

Weary of aged Tithones saffron bed. 

Had spread her purple robe through deawy aire ; 

And the high hils Titan discovered ; 

The royall virgin shooke off drousyhed : 

And, rising forth out of her baser bowre, 

Lookt for her knight, who far away was fled. 

And for her dwarfe, that wont to waite each howre :— 

Then gan she wail and weepe to see that woeful stowre. 

And after him zhe rode with so much speede. 
As her slowe beast could make ; but all in vaine: 
For him so far had borne his light-foot steede. 
Pricked with wrath and fiery fierce disdaine, 
That him to follow was but fruitlesse paine : 
Yet she her weary hmbes would never rest ; 
But every hil and dale, each wood and plaine. 
Did search, sore grieved in her gentle brest. 
He so .ungently left her, whom she loved best. 



THE FAERIE QTJEENB. 15 

But subtill ArcLimago, when his guests 

He saw divided into double parts, 

And Una wandring in woods and forrests, 

(TK* end of his drift,) he praised his divelish arts. 

That had such might over true meaning harts : 

Yet rests not so, but other nieanes doth make. 

How he may worke unto her further smarts : 

For her he hated as the hissing snake, 

And in her many troubles did most pleasure take. 

He then devisde himselfe how to disguise ; 

For by his mighty science he could take 

As many formes and shapes in seeming wise. 

As ever Proteus to himselfe could make : 

Sometime a fowle, sometime a fish in lake, 

I^ow like a foxe, now like a dragon fell ; 

That of himselfe he ofte for feare would quake, 

And oft would flie away. O who can tell 

The hidden powre of herbes, and might of magick spell! 

But now seemde best the person to put on 

Of that good knight, his late beguiled guest :— 

In mighty armes he was yclad anon, 

And silver shield ; upon his coward brest 

A bloody crosse, and on his craven crest 

A bounch of heares discolourd diversly. 

Full iolly knight he seemde, and wel addrest ; 

And, when he sate uppon his courser free, 

Saint George himselfe ye would have deemed him to be. 

!B:it he, the knight, whose semblaunt he did beare. 
The true Saint George, was wandred far away, 
Still flying from his thoughts and gealous feare : 
Will was his guide, and griefe led him astray. 
At last him chaunst to meete upon the way 
A faithlesse Sarazin, all armde to point. 
In whose great shield was writ with letters gay 
Sansfoy; full large of limbe and every ioint 
He was, and cared not for God or man a point. 

Hee had a faire companion of his way, 

A goodly lady clad in scarlot red, 

Purfled with gold and pearle of rich assay ; 

And like a Persian mitre on her hed 

Shee wore, with crowns and owches garnished. 

The which her lavish lovers to her gavet 

Her wanton palfre^y all was overspred 

With tinsell trappings, woven like a wave 

Whose bridle rung with golden bels and bosses brave. 



16 THE FAEEIE QXTEENE. 

With faire disport, and courting daKaunce, 

She intertainde her lover all the way : 

But, when she saw the knight his speare adraunce, 

Shee soone left off her mirth and wanton play. 

And bad her knight addresse him to the fray ; 

His foe was nigh at hand. He, prickte with pride. 

And hope to winne his ladies heart e that day, 

Forth spurred fast ; adowne his coursers side 

The red bloud trickling staind the way, as he did ride. 

The knight of the Redcrosse, when him he spide 

Spurring so hote with rage dispiteous, 

Gan fairely couch his speare, and towards ride ; 

Soone meete they both, both feU. and furious, 

That, daunted with their forces hideous, 

Their steeds doe stagger, and amazed stand ; 

And eke themselves, too rudely rigorous, 

Astonied with the stroke of their owne hand, 

Doe backe rebutte, and each to other yealdeth land. 

As when two ramg, stird with ambitious pride, 
Pight for the rule of the rich-ileeced flocke. 
Their horned fronts so fierce on either side 
Doe meete, that, with the terror of the shocka 
Astonied, both stand sencelesse as a blocke, 
Forgetfull of the hanging victory : 
So stood these twaine, unmoved as a rocke. 
Both staring fierce, and holding idely 
The broken rehques of their former cruelty. 

The Sarazin, sore daunted with the buffe, 

Snatcheth his sword, and fiercely to him flies ; 

Who well it wards, and quy teth cuff with c\mt 

Each others equall puissaunce envies, 

And through their iron sides with cruell spies 

Does seeke to perce ; repining courage yields 

ISTo foote to foe : the flashing fier flies, 

As from a forge, out of their burning shields ; 

And streams of purple bloud new die the verdant fields, 

" Curse on that crosse," quoth then the Sarazin, 

" That keeps thy body from the bitter fitt ; 

Dead long ygoe, I wote, thou haddest bin, 

Had not that charme from thee forwarned itt : 

But yet I warne thee now assured sitt. 

And hide thy head." Therewith upon his crest 

With rigor so outrageous he smitt. 

That a large share it hewd out of the rest, 

And glauncing down his shield from blame him fairly blest. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENS. 17 

Wlio, tliereat wondrous wroth, the sleeping spark 
Of native vertue gan eftsoones revive ; 
And, at his haughty helmet making mark, 
So hugely stroke, that it the Steele did rive, 
And cleft his head: he, tumbling downe alive. 
With bloudy mouth his mother earth did kis, 
Greeting his grave : his grudging ghost did strirD 
With the fraile flesh ; at last it flitted is,^ 
Whither the soules doe fly of men, that live amis. 

The lady, when she saw her champion faU, 

Like the old mines of a broken towre, 

Staid not to waile his woefull funerall ; 

But from him fled away with all her powre : 

Who after her as hastily gan scowre, 

Bidding the dwarfe with him to bring away 

The Sarazins shield, signe of the conqueroure : 

Her soone he overtooke, and bad to stay ; 

!For present cause was none of dread her to dismay. 

Shee turning backe, with ruefull countenaunc 

Cride, ** Mercy, mercy, sir, vouchsafe to show 

On silly dame, subiect to hard mischaunce. 

And to your mighty will." Her humblesse low 

In so ritch weedes, and seeming glorious show, 

Did much emmove his stout heroicke heart ; 

And said, " Deare dame, your suddein overthrow 

Much rueth me ; but now put feare apart. 

And tel, both who ye be, and who that tooke your part.** 

Melting in teares, then gan shee thus lament : 

** The wretched woman, whom unhappy howre 

Hath now made thrall to your commandement, 

Before that angry heavens hsttP lowre. 

And fortune false betraide me to your powre, 

Was, (O what now availeth that I was !) 

Borne the sole daughter of an emperour ; 

He that the wide west under his rule has, 

And high hath set his throne where Tiberis doth pas. 

" He, in the first flowre of my freshest age. 

Betrothed me unto the onely haire 

Of a most mighty king, most rich and sage; 

Was never prince so faithfn.ll and so faire. 

Was never prince so meeke and debonaire ! 

But, ere my hoped day of spousall shone, ^ 

My dearest lord fell from high honors staire 

Into the hands of hys accursed fone, 

And cruelly w^s slaine ; that shall I ever mone I 



18 THE FAEEIE QUEENS, 

"His blessed body, spoild of lively breath, 

Was afterward, I know not how, convaid. 

And fro me hid ; of whose most innocent death 

"When tidings came to mee, tmhappy maid, 

O, how great sorrow my sad soule assaid ! 

Then forth I went his woefull corse to find. 

And many yeares throughout the world I straid, 

A virgin widow ; whose deepe-wounded mind 

With love long time did languish, as the striken iiini 

^* At last it chaunced this proud Sarazin 

To meete me wandring; who perforce me led 

With him away ; but yet could never win 

The fort, that ladies hold in soveraigne dread. 

There lies he now with foule dishonor dead, 

Who, whiles he livde, was called proud Sansfoy, 

The eldest of three brethren ; all three bred 

Of one bad sire, whose youngest is Sansioy ; 

And twixt them both was born the bloudy bold Sansioy. 

*' In. this sad plight, friendlesse, unfortunate, 
Now miserable I Fidessa dweU, 
Craving of you, in pitty of my state. 
To doe none ill, if please ye not doe well." 
He in great passion all this while did dwell, 
More busying his quicke eies, her face to 'view. 
Then his dull eares, to heare what shee did tell ; 
And said, '* Eaire lady, hart of flint would rew 
The undeserved woes and sorrowes, which ye shew. 

" Henceforth in safe assuraunce may ye rest. 

Having both found a new friend you to aid, 

And lost an old foe that did you molest : 

Better new friend then old foe is said.'* 

With chaunge of chear the seeming-simple maid 

Let fal her eien, as shamefast, to the earth. 

And yeelding soft, in that she nought gainsaid. 

So forth they rode, he feining seemely merth, 

And shee coy lookes : so dainty, they say, maketh dertlu 

Long time they thus together travelled ; 

Tn, weary of their way, they came at last 

Where grew two goodly trees, that faire did spred 

Their armea abroad, with gray mosse overcaste ; 

And their greene leaves, trembUng with every blasts 

Made a calme shadowe far in compasse round : 

The fearfuIL shepheard, often there aghast, 

TJnder them never sat, ne wont there sound 

His mery oaten pipe j but shund th' unlucky ground. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 19 

But tMs good kniglit, soone as he them can spie. 

For the coole shade him thither hastly got ; 

For golden Phoebus, now ymounted hie. 

From fiery wheeles of his faire chariot 

Hurled his beame so scorching cruell hot. 

That living creature mote it not abide ; 

And his new lady it endured not. 

There they alight, in hope themselves to hide 

From the fierce heat, and rest their weary limbs a tide, 

Faire-seemely pleasaunce each to other makes. 

With goodly purposes, there as they sit ; 

And in his falsed fancy he her takes 

To be the fairest wight, that Hved yit ; 

Which to expresse, he bends his gentle wit ; 

And, thinking of those braunches greene to frame 

A girlond for her dainty forehead fit. 

He pluckt a bough ; out of whose rifte there came 

Smsd drops of gory bloud, that trickled down the same. 

Therewith a piteous yelling voice was heard. 

Crying, " O spare with guilty hands to teare 

My tender sides in this rough rynd embard; 

But fly, ah ! fly far hence away, for feare 

Least to you hap, that happened to me heare. 

And to this wretched lady, my deare love ; 

O too deare love, love bought with death too deare !** 

Astond he stood, and up ms heare did hove : 

And with that suddein horror could no member move. 

At last whenas the dreadful! passion 

Was overpast, and manhood well awake ; 

Yet musing at the straunge occasion, 

And doubting much his sence, he thus bespake : 

" What voice of damned ghost from Limbo lake. 

Or guilefull spright wandring in empty aire, 

(Both which fraile men doe oftentimes mistake,) 

Sends to my doubtful eares these speaches rare. 

And ruefull plaints, me bidding guiltlesse blood to spare P** 

Then, groning deep ; " Nor damned ghost," quoth he, 

** Nor guilefiu sprite, to thee these words doth speake ; 

But once a man Fradubio, now a tree ; 

Wretched man, wretched tree ! whose nature weake 

A cruell witch, her cursed will to wreake. 

Hath thus transformd, and plast in open plaines. 

Where Boreas doth blow full bitter bleake, 

And scorching sunne does dry my secret vaines ; 

For though a tree I seeme, yet cold and heat me paines/* 



20 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

" Say on, Pradubio, then, or man or tree,'* ^ 

Quoth then the knight ; "by whose mischievous arfcs 

Art thou misshaped thus, as now I see ? 

He oft finds med'eine who his. griefe imparts ; 

But double griefs afflict concealing harts ; 

As raging flames who striveth to suppressed' 

" The author then," said he, " of all my smarts, 

Is one Duessa, a false sorceresse. 

This many errant knights hath broght to wretchednesse. 

" In prime of youthly yeares, when corage hott 
The fire of love and ioy of chevalree 
First kindled in my brest, it was my lott 
To love this gentle lady, whome ye see 
IN'ow not a lady, but a seeming tree ; 
With whome as once I rode accompanyde. 
Me chaunced of a knight encountred bee. 
That had a like faire lady by his syde ; 
Lyke a faire lady, but did fowle Duessa hyde 5 

" Whose forged beauty he did take in hand 

All other dames to have exceded farre ; 

I in defence of mine did Hkewise stand, 

Mine, that did then shine as the morning starre. 

So both to batteill fierce arraunged arre ; - 

In which his harder fortune was to fall* 

Under my speare ; such is the dye of warre. 

His lady, left as a prise martiall, 

Did yield her comely person, to be at my call. 

" So doubly lov'd of ladies unlike faire, 

Th* one seeming such, the other such indeede. 

One day in doubt I cast for to compare 

Whether in beauties glorie did exceede ; 

A rosy girlond was the victors meede. 

Both seemde to win, and both seemde won to bee ; 

So hard the discord was to be agreede. 

iFrsehssa was as faire, as faire mote bee. 

And ever false Duessa seemde as faire as shee. 

" The wicked witch, now seeing all this while 

The doubtful! ballaunce equally to sway, ^ 

What not by right, she cast to win by guile; 

And, by her hellish science, raisd streight way 

A foggy mist that overcast the day. 

And a dull blast that breathing on her face 

Dimmed her former beauties shining ray, 

And with foule ugly forme did her disgrace : 

Then was she fayre alone, when none was faire in place. 



THE FAEEIE QtJEENE. 21 

" Then cride slie out, ' Fye, fye, deformed wiglit 
Whose borrowed beantie now appeareth plaine 
To have before bewitched all mens sight : 

leave her soone, or let her soone be slaine!* 
Her loathly visage viewing with disdaine, 
Eftsoones I thought her such as she me told, 
And would have kild her ; but with faigned paine 
The false witch did my wrathfull hand withhold : 

So left her, where she now is turned to treen mould.' 

" Thensforth I tooke Duessa for my dame. 
And in the witch unweeting ioyd long time ; 
Ne ever wist, but that she was the same : 
Till on a day (that day is everie prime, ^ 
When witches wont do penance for their crime,) 

1 chaunst to see her in her proper hew, 
Bathing her selfe in origane and thyme : 
A filthy foule old woman I did vew, 

That ever to have toucht her I did deadly rew. 

" Her neather partes misshapen monstruous. 

Were hidd in water, that I could not see ; 

But they did seeme more foule and hideous. 

Then womans shape man would beleeve to bee, 

Thensforth from her most beastly companie 

I gan refraine, in minde to slipp away, 

Soone as appeard safe opportunitie : 

For danger great, if not assurd decay, 

I saw before mine eyes, if I were knowne to stray. 

" The divelish hag, by chaunges of my cheare, 
Perceiv'd my thought ; and, drownd in sleepie night, 
With wicked herbes and oyntments did besmeare 
My body, all through charmes and magicke might, 
That all my senses were bereaved quight : 
Then brought she me into this desert waste. 
And by my wretched lovers side me pight ; 
Where now*enclosd in wooden wals full faste, 
Banisht from living wights, our wearie dales we waste." 

" But how long time," said then the Elfin knight, 

"Are you in this misformed hous to dwell ?" 

" We may not chaunge," quoth hei "this evill plight. 

Till we be bathed in a living well ; 

That is the terme prescribed by the spell." 

** O how," sayd he, " mote I that well out find, 

That may restore you to your wonted well ?" 

** Time and sufiised fates to former kynd 

Shall us restore ; none else from hence may us unbynd." 



22 THE FAEEIB QtJEENB. 

The false Duessa, now Fidessa Liglit, 

Heard liow in vaine Fradubio did lament, 

And knew well all was true. But the good knight* 

Full of sad feare and ghastly dreriment. 

When all this speech the living tree had spent, 

The bleeding bough did thrust into the ground, 

That from the blood he might be innocent. 

And with fresh clay did close the wooden wound : 

Then turning to his lady, dead with feare her fownd. 

Her seeming dead he fownd with feigned feare. 

As all unweeting of that well she knew ; 

And paynd himselfe with busie care to reare 

Her out of carelesse swowne. Her eyehds blew. 

And dimmed sight with pale and deadly hew. 

At last she up gan lift ; with trembhng cheare 

Her up he tooke, (too simple and too trew,) 

And oft her kist. At length, all passed feare. 

He set her on her steede, and forward forth did beare. 



CANTO in. 

Forsaken Truth long seekes her love^ 

And makes the lyon mylde ; 
Marres blind Devotions mart, and fals 

In hand of leachour vylde. 

Nought is there under heav'ns wide hollownesse. 
That moves more deare compassion of mind. 
Then beautie brought t* unworthie wretchednesse 
Through envies snares, or fortunes freakes unkind. 
I, whether lately through her brightnes blynd. 
Or through alleageance, and fast fealty. 
Which I do owe imto all womankynd, 
Feele my hart perst with so great aofony. 
When such I see, that all for pitty I could dy* 

And now it is empassioned so deepe,^ 

For fairest Unaes sake, of whom I sing, 

That my frayle eies these lines with teares do steepe^ 

To thinke how she through guyleful handeling, 

Though true as touch, though daughter of a king. 

Though faire as ever living wight was fayre. 

Though nor in word nor deede ill meriting, 

Is from her knight divorced in despayre, 

And her dew loves deryv'd to that vile witches shayre. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 23 

Yet she, most faitlifuU ladie, all tliis while 

Forsaken, wofull, solitarie mayd. 

Far from all peoples preace, as in exile, 

In wildernesse and wastfull deserts strayd, 

To seeke her knight ; who, subtily betrayd 

Through that late vision which th* enchaunter wrought. 

Had her abandond ; she of nought afrayd, 

Through woods and wastnes wide him daily sought. 

Yet wished tydinges none of him unto her brought. 

One day, nigh wearie qf the yrkesome way. 

From her unhastie beast she did alight ; 

And on the grasse her dainty limbs did lay 

In secrete shadow, far from all mens sight ; 

From her fayre head her fillet she undight. 

And layd her stole aside : Her angels face. 

As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright. 

And made a sunshine in the shady place ; 

Did never mortall eye behold such heavenly gra^e. 

It fortuned, out of the thickest wood | 

A ramping lyon rushed suddeinly. 

Hunting lull greedy after salvage blood 

Soone as the royall virgin he did spy. 

With gaping mouth at her ran greedily. 

To have attonce devourd her tender corse; 

But to the pray when as he drew more ny. 

His bloody rage aswaged with remorse. 

And, with the sight amazd, forgat his furious forse* 

Instead thereof, he kist her wearie feet. 

And lickt her lilly hands with fawning tong; 

As he her wronged innocence did weet. 
, O how can beautie maister the most strong, 
\ And simple truth subdue avenging wrong ! 

Whose yielded pryde and proud submission. 

Still dreading death, when she had marked lon^. 

Her hart gan melt in great compassion ; 

And drizling teares did shed for pure affection. 

**The lyon, lord of everie beast in field," 

Quoth she, " his princely puissance doth abate, 

And mightie proud to humble weake does yield, 

Forgetfull of the hungry rage, which late 

Him prickt, in pittie of my sad estate : — 

But he, my lyon, and my noble lord. 

How does he find in cruell hart to hate 

Her, that him lov'd, and ever most adord 

As the god of my life ? why hath he me abhordP* 



24. THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

HedoTinding teares did clioke tL* end of her plaint, 

"Which, softly ecchoed from the neighbour wood; 

And, sad to see her sorrowfuU constraint, 

The kingly beast upon her gazing stood ; 

With pittie calmd, downe fell his angry mood. 

At last, in close hart shutting up her payne. 

Arose the virgin, borne of heavenly brood. 

And to her snowy palfrey got agayne. 

To seeke her strayed champion if she might attayne. 

The lyon would not leave her desolate, 

But with her went along, as a strong' gard 

Of her chast person, and a faythfull mate 

Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard ; 

Still, when she slept, he kept both watch and ward; 

And, when she watt, he wayted diligent. 

With humble service to her will prepard : 

Prom her fayre eyes he took commandement. 

And ever by her lookes conceived her intent. 

Long she thus travelled through deserts wyde. 

By which she thought her wandring knight shold pas. 

Yet never shew of hving wight espyde ; 

Till that at length she found the trodden gras. 

In which the tract of peoples footing was. 

Under the steepe foot of a mountaine hore ; 

The same she followes, till at last she has 

A damzel spyde slow-footing her before. 

That on her shoulders sad a pot of water bore. 

To whom approaching, she to her gan call. 

To weet, if dwelling-place were nigh at hand : 

But the rude wench her answerd nought at all ; 

She could not heare, nor speake, nor understand: 

Till, seeing by her side the lyon stand, 

With suddein feare her pitcher downe she threw. 

And fled away: for never in that land 

Pace of fayre lady she before did vew, 

And that dredd lyons looke her cast in deadly hew. 

Pull fast she fled, ne ever lookt behynd, 

As if her life upon the wager lay ; 

And home she came, whereas her mother blynd 

Sate in eternall night ; nought could she say ; 

But, suddeine catching hold, did her dismay 

With quaking hands, and other signes of feare; 

Who, fuU of ghastly fright and cold afiray, 

Gan shut the dore. By this arrired there 

Dame Una, weary dame, and entrance did regxtere: 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 85 

Whlcli when none yielded, her unruly page 

With his rude clawes the wicket open rent. 

And let her in; where, of his cruell rage 

l^igh dead with feare, and faint astonishment, 

Shee found them both in darksome corner pent: 

Where that old woman day and night did pray 

Upon her beads, devoutly penitent; 

Nine hundred JPater nosters every day, 

And thrice nine hundred Aves, she was wont to say. 

And, to augment her painefull penaunce more, 
Thrise every weeke in ashes shee did sitt, 
And next her wrinkled skin, rough sackecloth Wore 
And thrise-three times did fast from any bitt : 
But now for feare her beads she did forgett. 
Whose needlesse dread for to remove away, 
Paire Una framed words and count'naunce fitt ; 
Which hardly doen, at length she gan them pray. 
That in their cotage small that night she rest her may. 

The day is spent; and commeth drowsie night. 

When every creature shrouded is in sleepe ; 

Sad Una downe her laies in weary plight. 

And at her feete the lyon watch doth keepe ; 

In stead of rest, she does lament, and weepe, 

[For the late losse of her deare-loved knight. 

And sighes, and grones, and evermore does steepe 

Her tender brest in bitter teares all night ; 

All night she thinks too long, and often lookes for light. 

ITow when Aldeboran was mounted hye, 
Above the shinie Cassiopeias chaire, 
And all in deadly sleepe did drowned lye. 
One knocked at the dore, and in would fare ; 
He knocked fast, and often curst, and sware. 
That ready entraunce was not at his call ; 
For on his backe a heavj^ load he bare 
Of nightly stelths, and pillage severall. 
Which he had got abroad by purchas criminall. 

He was, to weete, a stout and sturdy thiefe. 

Wont to robbe churches of their ornaments. 

And poore mens boxes of their due reliefe, 

Which given was to them for good intents : 

The holy saints of their rich vestiments 

He did disrobe, when all men carelesse slept; 

And spoild the priests of their habiliments ; 

Whiles none the holy things in safety kept. 

Then he by conning sleights in at the window crept. 



26 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE, A 

And all, tliat lie by riglit or wrong could find. 

Unto this house he brought, and did bestow 

Upon the daughter of this woman blind, 

Abessa, daughter of Corceca slow. 

With whome he whoredome usd that few did knoWt 

And fed her fatt with feast of offerings, 

And plenty, which in all the land did grow ; 

]Sre spared he to give her gold and rings : 

And now he to her brought part of hia stolen things. 

Thus, long the dore with rage and threats he bett; 
Yet of those fearfull women none durst rize, 
(The lyon frayed them,) him in to lett ; 
He would no lenger stay him to advize. 
But open breakes the dore in furious wize. 
And entring is; when that disdainfull beast,^ 
Encountring fierce, him suddein doth surprize ; 
And seizing cruell clawes on trembling brest. 
Under his lordly foot him proudly hath supprest. 

Him booteth not resist, nor succour call. 
His bleeding hart is in the vengers hand ; 
Who streight him rent in thousand peeces small. 
And quite dismembred hath : the thirsty land 
Dronke up his life ; his corse left on the strand. 
His fearefull freends weare out the wofull night, 
Ne dare to weepe, nor seeme to understand 
The heavie hap, which on them is alight ; 
Affraid, least to themselves the like mishapen might. 

ITow when broad day the world discovered has. 

Up Una rose, up rose the lyon eke ; 

And on their former iourney forward pas, 

In waies unknowne, her wandring knight to seeke. 

With paines far passing that long-wandring Greeke, 

That for his love refused deitye : 

Such were the labours of this lady meeke, 

Still seeking him, that from her still did flye ; 

Then furthest from her hope, when most she weened nye» 

Soone as she parted thence, the fearfull twayne, 
That blind old woman, and her daughter dear. 
Came forth; and, finding Kirkrapine there slayne. 
For anguish great they gan to rend their heare. 
And beat their brests, and naked flesh to teare : 
And when they both had wept and wayld their fiill. 
Then forth they ran, like two amazed deare, 
Halfe mad through mahce and revenging will. 
To follow her, that was the causer of their ill : 



THE FAEEIE QUEENS. 27 

Whome overtaking, they gan loudly bray. 
With hollow houling, and lamenting cryi 
Shamefully at her rayling all the way, 
And her accusing of dishonesty. 
That was the flowre of faith and chastity: 
And still, amidst her rayling, she did pray- 
That plagues, and mischiefes, and long misery. 
Might fall on her, and follow all the way; 
And that in endlesse error she might ever stray. 

But, when she saw her prayers nought prevaile, 
Shee backe retourned with some labour lost ; 
And in the way, as shee did weepe and waile, 
A knight her mett in mighty armes'embost. 
Yet knight was not for all his bragging host ; 
But subtill Archimag, that Una sought 
By traynes into new troubles to have teste z 
Of that old woman tidings he besought, 
If that of such a lady shee could tellen ought. 

Therewith she gan her passion to renew, 

And cry, and curse, and raile, and rend her heare. 

Saying, that harlott she too lately knew. 

That causd her shed so many a bitter teare ; 

And so forth told the story of her feare. 

Much seemed he to mone her haplesse chaunce. 

And after for that lady did inquere ; 

Which being taught, he forward gan advaunce 

His fair enchaunted steed, and eke his charmed launce. 

Ere long he came where Una traveild slow. 

And that wilde champion way ting her besyde ; 

Whome seeing such, for dread hee durst not show 

Him selfe too nigh at hand, but turned wyde 

Unto an hil; from whence when she him spyde, 

By his like-seeming shield her knight by name 

Shee weend it was, and towards him gan ride; 

Approaching nigh she wist it was the same ; 

And with faire fearefull humblesse towards him shee camet 

And weeping said, " Ah my long-lacked lord, 

Where have ye bene thus long out of my sight? 

Much feared I to have bene quight abhord. 

Or ougbt have done, that ye displeasen might. 

That should as death unto my deare heart light; 

Por since mine eie your ioyous sight did mis, 

My chearefull day is turnd to chearelesse night, 

And eke my night of death the shadow is : 

But welcome now, my light, and shining lampe of blia !" 



28 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

He thereto meeting said, '* My dearest dame, 
Far be it from your thouglit, and fro my wil, 
To tliinke that kniglitliood I so much should shame. 
As you to leave that have me loved stil, 
And chose in Faery court, of meere goodwil, 
Where noblest knights were to be found on earth. 
The earth shall sooner leave her kindly skil 
To bring forth fruit, and make eternal derth, 
Then I ieve you, my liefe, yborn of hevenly berth. 

" And sooth to say, why I lefte you so long, 

Was for to seeke adventure in straunge place 5 

Where, Archimago said, a felon strong 

To many knights did daily worke disgrace ; 

But knight he now shall never more deface: 

Good cause of mine excuse that mote ye please 

Well to accept, and evermore embrace 

My faithfull Service, that by land and seas 

Have vowd you to defend: now then your plaint appease.*' 

His lovely words her seemd due recompence 

Of all her passed paines : one loving howre 

For many yeares of sorrow can dispence ; 

A dram of sweete is worth a pound of sowre. 

Shee has forgott how many a woeful stowre 

For him she late endurd; she speakes no more 

Of past : true is, that true love hath no powre 

To looken backe ; his eies be fixt befoi;e. 

Before her stands her knight, for whom she toyld so sore. 

Much like, as when the beaten marinere, 

That long hath wandred in the ocean wide, 

Ofte soust in swelling Tethys saltish teare ; 

And long time having tand his tawney hide . 

With blustring breath of heaven, that none can bide. 

And scorching flames of fierce Orion s hound; 

Soone as the port from far he has espide, 

His chearfull whistle merily doth sound. 

And Nereus crownes with cups ; his mates him pledg around j 

Such ioy made Una, when her knight she found ; 
And eke th' enchaunter ioyous seemde no lesse 
Then the glad marchant, that does vew from ground 
His ship far come from watrie wildernesse ; 
He hurles out vowes, and Neptune oft doth blesse. 
So forth they past; and all the way they spent 
Discoursing of her dreadful late distresse, 
In which he askt her, what the lyon ment ; 
Who told, her all that fell in iourney, as she went. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 29 

They had not ridden far, "when they might see 

One pricking towards them with hastie heat, 

Full strongly armd, and on a courser free. 

That through his fiersnesse fomed all with sweat, 

And the sharpe yron did for anger eat, 

"When his hot ryder spurd his chauffed side; 

His looke was sterne, and seemed still to threat 

Cruell revenge, which he in hart did hyde : 

And on his shield Sans loy in bloody lines was dyde. 

When nigh he drew unto this gentle payre, 

And saw the red crosse, which the knight did beare. 

He burnt in fire; and gan eftsoones prepare 

Himselfe to batteill with his couched speare. 

Loth was that other, and did faint through feare. 

To taste th* untryed dint of deadly Steele : 

But yet his lady did so well him cheare. 

That hope of new good hap he gan to feele ; 

So bent his speare, and spurd his horse with yron heele. 

But that proud Paynim forward came so ferce 
And full of wrath, that, with his sharp-head speare. 
Through vainly crossed shield he quite did perce ; 
And, had his staggering steede not shronke for feare, 
. Through shield and body eke he should him beare: 
Yet, so great was the puissance of his push. 
That from his sadle quite he did him beare : 
He tombling rudely downe to ground did rush, 
And from his gored wound a well of bloud did gush. 

Dismounting lightly from his loftie steed. 

He to him lept, in minde to reave his life, 

And proudly said ; " Lo, there the worthie meed 

Of him, that slew Sansfoy with bloody knife ; 

Henceforth his ghost, freed from repining strife. 

In peace may passen over Lethe lake ; 

When mourning altars, purgd with enimies life, 

The black infernall furies doen aslake : 

Life from Sansfoy thou tookst, Sansloy shall from thee take/* 

Therewith in haste his helmet gan unlace, 
Till Una cride, " O hold that heavie hand. 
Pear sir, what ever that thou be in place : 
Enough is, that thy foe doth vanquisht stand 
ISTow at thy mercy ; mercy not withstand ; 
Por he is one the truest knight alive, 
Though conquered now he lye on lowly land; 
And, whilest him fortune favourd, fayrc did thrive 
In bloudy field ; therefore of life him not deprive." 



30 THE PAEEIE QUEENE. 

Her piteous wordes miglit not abate his rage; 

But, rudely rending up his helmet, would 

Have slayne him streight ; but when he sees his ago. 

And hoarie head of Archimago ojd. 

His hasty hand he doth amased hold, 

And, halfe ashamed, wondred at the sight: 

For that old man well knew he, though untold. 

In charmes and magick to have wondrous might 5 

Ne ever wont in field, ne in round lists, to fight ; 

And said, " Why Archimago, lucklesse syre. 
What doe I see ? what hard mishap is this. 
That hath thee hether brought to taste mine yre? 
Or thine the fault, or mine the error is, 
Instead of foe to wound my friend amis ?" 
He answered nought, but in a traunce still lay. 
And on those guilefull dazed eyes of his 
The cloude of death did sit; which doen away. 
He left him lying so, ne would no longer stay : 

But to the virgin comes ; who all this while 
Amased stands, herselfe so mockt to see 
By him, who has the guerdon of his guile, 
Por so misfeigning her true knight to bee : 
Yet is she now in more perplexitie,^ 
Left in the hand of that same Paynim bold. 
From whom her booteth not at all to flie : 
Who, by her cleanly garment catching hold, 
Her from her palfrey pluckt, her visage to beholi 

But her fiers servant, full of kingly aw* 

And high disdaine, whenas his soveraine dame 

So rudely handled by her foe he saw. 

With gaping iawes full greedy at him came. 

And, ramping on his shield, did weene the same 

Have reft away with his sharp rending clawes : 

But he was stout, and lust did now inflame 

His corage more, that from his griping pawes 

He hath his shield redeemd; and forth his swerd he drawcs, 

O then, too weake and feeble was the forse 

Of salvage beast, his puissance to withstand! 

For he was strong, and of so mightie corse. 

As ever wielded speare in warlike hand ; 

And feates of armes did wisely understand. 

Eftsoones he perced through his chaufed chest 

With thrilling point of deadly yron brand. 

And launcht his lordly hart : with death opprest 

He ror*d aloud, whiles life forsooke his stubborne brest. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 81 

Who now is left to keepe tlie forlome maid 

From raging spoile of lawlesse victors will?^ 

Her faithf uU gar d removed ; her hope dismaid 5 

Her selfe a yielded pray to save or spill ! 

He now, lord of the field, his pride to fill, 

With foule reproches and disdaineful spight 

Her vildly entertaines; and, will or niU, 

Beares her away upon his courser light : 

Her prayers nought prevaile : his rage is more of might. 

And all the way, with great lamenting paine. 

And piteous plaintes, she filleth his dull eares, 

That stony hart could riven have in twaine ; 

And all the way she wetts with flowing teares ; 

But he, enrag*d with rancor, nothing heares. 

Her servile beast yet would not leave her so. 

But follows her far ofi", ne ought he feares 

To be partaker of her wandring woe : 

More mild in beastly kind, then that her beastly fos. 



CANTO IV. 

To sinfull hous of Pryde Duess- 

a guydes the faithful! knight ; 
Where, brothers death to wreak, Sansiojf 

Doth chaleng him to fight. 

YoiTNG knight whatever, that dost armes professe. 

And through long labours huntest after fame. 

Beware of fraud, beware of ficklenesse. 

In choice, and chaunge, of thy deare-loved dame ; 

Least thou of her believe too lightly blame, 

And rash misweening doe thy hart remove : 

For unto knight there is no greater shame. 

Then lightnesse and inconstancie in love ; 

That doth this E-edcrosse knights ensample plainly prove. 

Who, after that he had faire Una lorne. 

Through light misdeeming of her loialtie ; 

And false Duessa in her sted had borne. 

Called Pidess', and so supposd to be ; 

Long with her traveild; till at last they see 

A goodly building, bravely garnished; 

The house of mightie prince it seemd to be ; 

And towards it a broad high way that led, 

All bare through peoples feet, which thether traveiled. 



33 THE TAEEIE QXTEENE. 

Great troupes of people traveild thetlierward 
Both day and night, of each degree and place 5 
But few returned, having scaped hard, 
With balefull beggery, or foule disgrace ; 
Which ever after in most wretched case. 
Like loathsome lazars, by the hedges lay. 
Thether Duessa badd him bend his pace ; 
Por she is wearie of the toils om way; 
And also nigh consumed is the lingring day. 

A stately pallace built of squared bricke, 

Which cunningly was without morter laid, 

Whose wals were high, but nothing strong nor thick. 

And golden foile all over them displaid, 

That purest skye with brightnesse they dismaid: 

High lifted up were many loftie towres. 

And goodly galleries far over laid, 

"ffixll of faire windowes and delightful bowres; 

And on the top a diall told the timely howres. 

It was a goodly keape for to behould, 
And spake the praises of the workmans witt 5 
But full great pittie, that so faire a mould 
Did on so weake foundation ever sitt : 
'For on a sandie hill, that still did flitt 
And fall away, it mounted was full hie : 
That every breath of heaven shaked itt ; 
And all the hinder partes, that few could spie^ 
Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly. 

Arrived there, they passed in forth right ; 
For still to all the gates stood open wide : 
Yet charge of them was to a porter hight, 
Cald Malvenu, who entrance none denide ; 
Thence to the hall, which was on every sied 
With rich array and costly arras dight ; 
Infinite sortes of people did abide 
There waiting long, to win the wished sight 
Of her, that was the lady of that pallace bright. 

By them they passe, all gazing on them round, 

And to the presence mount ; whose glorious vew 

Their frayle amazed senses did confound. 

In living princes court none ever knew 

Such endlesse richesse, and so sumpteous shew ; 

ISTe Persia selfe, the nourse of pompous pride. 

Like ever saw : and there a noble crew 

Of lords and ladies stood on ever side. 

Which, with their presence fayre, the place much beautilyda 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 33 

Higli above all a cloth of state was spred. 
And a rich throne, as bright as sunny day; 
On which there sate, most brave embelHshed 
With royall robes and gorgeous array, 
A mayden queene that shone, as Titans ray. 
In glistring gold and perelesse pretious stone; 
Yet her bright blazing beaixtie did assay 
To dim the brightnesse of her glorious throne. 
As envying her selfe, that too exceeding shone: 

Exceeding shone, like Phoebus fayrest childe, 
That did presume his fathers fyrie wayne. 
And flaming mouthes of steedes unwonted wilde. 
Through highest heaven with weaker hand to rayne; 
Proud of such glory and advancement vayne, 
While flashing beames do daze his feeble eyen, 
He leaves the welkin way most beaten playne, 
And, rapt with whirling wheeles, inflames the skyen 
With fire not made to burne, but fayrely for to shyno. 

So proud she shyned in her princely state, 
Looking to heaven; for earth she did disdayne: 
And sitting high; for lowly she did hate: 
Lo, underneath her scornefull feete was layne 
A dreadfull dragon with an hideous trayne ; 
And in her hand she held a mirrhour bright. 
Wherein her face she often vewed fayne. 
And in her selfe-lov'd semblance took delight; 
For she was wondrous faire, as any living wight. 

Of griesly Pluto she the daughter was. 

And sad Proserpina, the queene of hell; 

Yet did she thinke her pearelesse worth to pas 

That parentage, with pride so did she swell; 

And thundring love, that high in heaven doth dwell 

And wield the world, she claymed for her syre; 

Or if that any else did love excell; 

Por to the highest she did still aspyre; ^ 

Or, if ought higher were then that, did it desyre. 

And proud Lucifera men did her call. 

That made her selfe a queene, and crownd to be; 

Yet rightfull kingdome she had none at all, 

Ne heritage of native saveraintie; 

But did usurpe with wrong and tyrannic 

Upon the scepter, which she now did hold : 

Ne ruld her realme with lawes, but pollicie. 

And strong advizement of six wizards old, 

That with their counsels bad her kingdome did uphold. 



34 THE FAEEIE QUEENE, 

Soone as the elfin knight in presence came, 

And false Duessa, seeming lady fayre, 

A gentle Lusher, Yanitie by name, 

Made rowme, and passage for them did prepaire: 

So goodly brought them to the lowest stayre 

Of her high throne ; where they, on humble knee 

Making obeysaunce, did the cause declare, 

Why they were come, her roiall state to see. 

To prove the wide report of her great maiestee. 

With loftie eyes, halfe loth to Iqoke so lowe, 
She thancked them in her disdainefull wise; 
"Ne other grace vouchsafed them to showe 
Of princesse worthy; scarse them bad arise. 
Her lordes and ladies all this while devise 
Themselves to setten forth to straungers sight :^ 
Some frounce their curled heare in courtly guise ; 
Some prancke their ruffes ; and others trimly dight 
Their gay attyre: each others greater pride does spight. 

Goodly they all that knight doe entertayne. 
Eight glad with him to have increast their crew; 
But to Duess' each one himselfe did payne 
All kindnesse and faire courtesie to shew; 
For in that court whylome her well they knew: 
Yet the stout Faery mongst the middest crowd 
Thought all their glorie vaine in knighthe vew. 
And that great princesse too exceeding prowd, 
That to strange knight no better countenance allowd. 

Suddein upriseth from her stately place 

The roiall dame, and for her coche did call: 

All hurtlen forth; and she, with princely pace, 

As faire Aurora, in her purple pall. 

Out of the east the dawning day doth call, 

So forth she comes ; her brightnes brode doth blaze. 

The heapes of people, thronging in the hall, 

Doe ride each other, upon her to gaze : 

Her glorious ghtter and light doth all mens eies amaze. 

So forth she comes, and to her coche does clyme, 

Adorned all with gold and girlonds gay, 

That seemd as fresh as Flora in her prime; 

And strove to match, in roiall rich array, 

Great lunoes golden chajrre; the which, they say. 

The gods stand gazing on, when she does ride 

To loves high hous through heavens bras-paved way, 

Drawne of fayre pecocks, that exceU in pride. 

And full of Aigus eyes their tayles dispredden wide. 



THE FAEBIE QXTEENE. 3S 

But this was drawne of six unequall beasts. 
On which her six sage counsellours did ryde. 
Taught to obay their bestiall beheasts, 
With hke conditions to their kindes applyde ; 
Of which the first, that all the rest did guyde. 
Was sluggish Idlenesse, the nourse of Sin; y 
Upon a slouthfull asse he chose to ryde, 
Arayd in habit blacke, and amis thin ; 
Like to an holy monck, the service to begin. 

And in his hand his portesse still he bare. 

That much was worne, but therein little redd; 

For of devotion he had little care. 

Still drownd in sleepe, and most of his daies dedd: 

Scarse could he once uphold his heavie hedd. 

To looken whether it were night or day. 

May seeme the wayne was very evil ledd. 

When such an one had guiding of the way. 

That knew not, whether right he went or else astray* 

From worldly cares himselfe he did esloyne. 

And greatly shunned manly exercise; 

From everie worke he chalenged essoyne. 

For contemplation sake: yet otherwise 

His life he led in lawlesse riotise; 

By which he grew to grievous malady : 

For in his lustlesse limbs, through evill guise, 

A shaking fever raignd continually: 

Such one was Idlenesse, first of this company. 

And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony, 
Deformed creature, on a filthie swyne; 
His belly was upblowne with luxury, ^ 
And eke with fatnesse swollen were his eyne; 
And like a crane his neck was long and fyne. 
With which he swallowed up excessive feast. 
For want whereof poore people oft did pyne : 
And all the way, most like a brutish beast. 
He spued up his gorge, that all did him deteast. 

In greene vine leaves he was right fitly clad; 

For other clothes he could not wear for heate: 

And on his head an yvie girland had, 

From under which fast trickled downe the sweat: 

Still as he rode, he somewhat still did eat. 

And in his hande did beare a bouzing can. 

Of which he supt so oft, that on his seat 

His dronken corse he scarse upholden can : 

In shape and life more like a monster then a maiu 



86 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Unfit he was for any worldly tHng, 

And eke unliable once to stirre or go; 

Not meet to be of counsell to a king, 

Wbose mind in meate and drinke was drowned so. 

That from his frend he seeldome knew his fo : 

Full of diseases was his earcas blew, 

And a dry dropsie through his flesh did flow, 

Which by misdiet daily greater grew : 

Such one was Gluttony, the second of that crew* 

And next to him rode lustfull Lechery 

Upon a bearded gote, whose rugged heare. 

And whally eies, (the signe of gelosy,) 

Was hke the person selfe, whom he did beare; 

Who rough, and blacke, and filthy, did appeare; 

Unseemely man to please fair ladies eye: 

Yet he of ladies oft was loved deare. 

When fairer faces were bid standen by: 

O who does know the bent of womens fantasy ! 

In a greene gowne he clothed was full faire. 

Which underneath did hide his filthinesse; 

i.nd in his hand a burning hart he bare, 

Pull of vaine foUies and new-fanglenesse: 

Por he was false, and fraught with ficklenesse; 

And learned had to love with secret lookes; 

And well could daunce; and sing with ruefulnesse; 

And fortunes tell; and read in loving bookes : 

And thousand other waies, to bait his fleshly hookea. 

Inconstant man, that loved all he saw. 

And lusted after all, that he did love; 

Ne would his looser Hfe be tide to law, 

But ioyd weake wemens hearts to tempt, and prove 

If from their loyall loves he might them move: 

Which lewdnes fild him with reproachfull pain 

Of that foule evill, which all men reprove, 

That rotts the marrow, and consumes the braine : 

Such one was Lechery, the third of all this traine. 

j\.nd greedy Avarite by him did ride, 

Upon a camell loaden all with gold: 

Two iron cofiers hong on either side. 

With precious metall full as they might hold; 

And in his lap an heap of coine he told; 

For of his wicked pelf his god he made. 

And unto hell himselfe for money sold ; 

Accursed usury was all his trade; 

And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide. 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 37 

His life was nigh unto deaths dore yplaste ; 
And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes, hee ware; 
Ne scarse good morsell all his life did taste ; 
But both from backe and belly still did spare, 
To fill his bags, and richesse to compare ; 
Yet childe ne kinsman living had he none 
To leave them to ; but thorough daily care 
To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne. 
He led a wretched Hfe, unto himselfe unlmowne. 

Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffise; 

Whose greedy lust did lacke in greatest store; 

Whose need had end, but no end covetise; 

Whose welth was want; whose plenty made him pore; 

Who had enough, yett wished ever more; 

A vile disease; and eke in foote and hand 

A grievous gout tormented him full sore ; 

That well he could not touch, nor goe, nor stand : 

Such one was Avarice, the fourth of this faire band ! 

And next to him malicious Enyy rode 

Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw 

Between his cankred teeth a venemous tode. 

That all the poison ran about his chaw; 

But inwardly he chawed his owne maw 

At neibors welth, that made him ever sad; 

For death it was, when any good he saw; 

And wept, that cause of weeping none he had; 

But, when he heard of harme, he wexed wondrous glad. 

All in a kirtle of discolourd say 

He clothed was, ypaynted full of eies ; 

And in his bosome secretly there lay 

An hatefuU snake, the which his taile uptyes 

In many folds, and mortall sting implyes : 

Still as he rode, he gnasht his teeth to see 

Those heapes of gold with grille Covetyse ; 

And grudged at the great felicitee 

Of proud Lucifera, and his owne companee. 

He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds, 
And him no lesse, that any like did use ; 
And, who with gratious bread the hungry feeds. 
His almes for want of faith he doth accuse : 
So every good to bad he doth abuse :^ * 

And eke the verse of famous poets witt 
He does backebite, and spightfull poison spues 
From leprous mouth on all that ever writt : 
Such one vile Envy was, that fifte in row did sitt. 
3 



S8 THE PAEEIE QtTEENB. 

And him beside rides fierce revenging Wrath, 

Upon a lion, loth for to be led ; •■ 

And in his hand a burning brond he hath. 

The which he brandisheth about his hed : 

His eies did hurle forth sparcles fiery red. 

And stared sterne on all that him beheld ; 

As ashes pale of hew, and seeming ded ; 

And on his dagger still his hand he held, 

Ti^embling through hasty rage, when choler in him sweld. 

His ruffin raiment all was staind with blood 

Which he had spilt, and all to rags yrent; 

Through unadvized rashnes woxen wood ; 

For of his hands he had no governement, 

Ne car*d for blood in his avengement : 

But, when the furious fitt was overpast. 

His cruell facts he often would repent ; 

Yet, wilfull man, he never would forecast. 

How many mischieves should ensue his heedlesse hast. . 

Pull many mischiefes follow cruell Wrath ; 
Abhorred Bloodshed, and tumultuous Strife, 
Unmanly Murder, and unthrifty Scath, 
Bitter Despight with Rancours rusty knife ; * 
And fretting Griefe, the enemy of hfe : 
All these, and many evils moe haunt Ire, ^ 
The swelling Splene, and Frenzy raging rife. 
The shaking Palsey, and St. Fraunces fire : 
Such one was Wrath, the last of this ungodly tire. 

And, after all, upon the wagon beame 

Bode Sathan with a smarting whip in hand. 

With which he forward lasht the laesy teme. 

So oft as Slowth still in the mire did stand. 

Huge routs of people did about them band, 

Showting for joy ; and still before their way 

A foggy mist had covered all the land ; 

And, underneath their feet, all scattered lay 

Dead sculls and bones of men whose life had gone astray. 

So forth they marchen in this goodly sort. 

To take the solace of the open aire. 

And in fresh flowring fields themselves to sport : 

Emongst the rest rode that false lady faire. 

The foul€ Duessa, next unto the chaire 

Of proud Lucifer', as one of the traine : 

But that good knight would not so nigh repaire, 

Him selfe estraunging from their ioyaunce vaine, 

Whose fellowship seemd far unfitt for wavi^i-« swaine. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 39 

So, having solaced themselves a space 
With pleas aunce of the breathing fields yfed. 
They backe retourned to the princely place ; 
Whereas an errant knight in armes ycled, 
And heathnish shield, wherein with letters red 
Was writt Sans ioy, they new arrived find : 
Enflam'd with fury and fiers hardyhed, 
He seemd in hart to harbour thouglits unkind, 
And nourish bloody vengeaunce in his bitter mind. 

Who, when the shamed shield of slaine Sansfoy 

He spide with that same Fary champions page. 

Bewraying him that did of late destroy 

His eldest brother; burning all with rage. 

He to him lept, and that same envious gage 

Of victors glory from him snacht away : 

But th' Elfin knight, which ought that warlike wage, 

Disdaind to loose the meed he wonne in fray ; 

And, him rencountring fierce, reskewd the noble pray. 

Therewith they gan to hurtlen greedily, 

B-edoubted battaile ready to darrayne, 

And clash th^r shields, and shake their swords on hy ; 

That with their sturre they troubled all the traine : 

Till that great queene, upon eternall paine 

Of high displeasure that ensewen might, 

Commaunded them their fury to refraine ; 

And, if that either to that shield had right, 

In equall fists they should the morrow next it fight. 

" Ah, dearest dame," quoth then the Paynim bold, 

" Pardon the error of enraged wight, 

Whome great griefe made forgett the raines to hold 

Of reasons rule, to see this recreaunt knight, 

(No knight, but treachour full of false dispight 

And shameful treason,) who through guile hath slayn 

The prowest knight tliat ever fie^d did fight, 

Even stout Sansfoy, (O, who can then refrayn !) 

Whose shield he beares renverst, the more to heap disdayiu 

*' And, to auigment the glorie of his guile. 

His dearest love, the faire Fidessa, loe 

Is there possessed of the tray tour vile ; 

Who reapes the harvest sowen by his foe, 

Sowen in bloodie field, and bought with woe : 

That— brothers hand shall dcarely well requight, 

So be, O Queene, you equall favour showe." 

Him litle answerd th' angry Elfin knight ; 

He never meant with words, but swords, to plead liis right: 



dO THE FAEEIE QtTEElTE. 

But tlirew his gauntlet, as a sacred pledg. 

His cause in combat the next day to try : 

So been they parted both, with harts on edg 

To be aveng*d each on his enimy. 

That night they pas in ioy and iollity, 

Feasting and coiurting both in bowre and hall; 

!For steward was excessive Gluttony, 

That of his plenty poured forth to all : 

"Which doen, the chamberlain Slowth did to rest them calL 

iN'ow whenas darksome night had all displayd 

Her coleblacke curtein over brightest sl^e ; 

The warlike youthes, on dayntie couches lay d. 

Did chace away sweet sleepe from sluggish eye. 

To muse on meanes of hoped victory. 

But whenas Morpheus had with leaden mace 

Arrested all that courtly company. 

Uprose Duessa from her resting place. 

And to the Paynims lodging comes with silent pace: 

Whom broad awake she findes, in troublous fitt. 
Fore-casting, how his foe he might annoy ; 
And him amoves with speaches seeming fittit 
" Ah, deare Sansioy, next dearest to Sansfoy, 
Cause of my new griefe, cause of my new ioy ; 
loyous, to see his ymage in mine eye. 
And greevd, to thmke how foe did him destroy. 
That was the flowre of grace and chevabye ; 
Lo, his Fidessa, to thy secret faith I flye." 

With gentle wordes he can her fayrely greet. 

And bad say on the secrete of her hart : 

Then, sighing soft ; " I learne that little sweet 

Oft tempred is," quoth she, " with mucheU smart: 

For, since my brest was launcht with lovely dart 

Of deare Sansfoy I never ioyed howre, 

But in eternall woes my weaker hart 

Have wasted, loving him with all my powre. 

And for his sake have felt full many an heavy stowre. 

"At last, when perils all I weened past, 

And hop'd to reape the crop of all my care. 

Into new woes nnweeting I was cast 

By this false faytor, who unworthie ware 

BLis worthie shield, whom he with guilefuU snare 

Entrapped slew, and brought to shamefuU grave : 

Me siUy maid away with lum he bare. 

And ever since hath kept in darksom cave ; 

For that I would not yeeld that to Sansfoy I gave. 



THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 41 

" But since faire smine hatli sperst that lowring clowd, 

And to my loathed life now shewes some light. 

Under yom* beames I wiU me safely shrowd 

From dreaded storme of his disdainfull spight : 

To you th' inheritance belongs by right 

Of brothers prays e, to you eke longes his love. 

Let not his love,, let not his restlesse spright. 

Be uiireveng*d, that caLles to you above [move." 

From wandring Stygian shores, where it doth endlesse 

Thereto said he, " Faire dame, be nought dismaid 
For sorrowes past ; their griefe is with them gone. 
Ne yet of present perill be affraid ; 
For needlesse feare did never vantage none ; 
And helplesse hap it booteth not to mone. 
Dead is Sansfoy, his vitall paines are past. 
Though greeved ghost for vengeance deep do grone : 
He lives, that shaU. him pay his dewties last. 
And guiltie Elfin blood shall sacrifice in hast." 

" O, but I feare the fickle freakes," quoth shee, 
** Of Fortune false, and oddes of armes in field." 
" Why, dame,'* quoth he, " what oddes can ever bee 
Where both doe fight alike, to win or yield ?" 
^* Yea, but," quoth she, ** he beares a charmed shield. 
And eke enchaunted armes, that none can perce ; 
Ne none can wound the man, that does them wield." 
" Charmd or enchaunted," answerd he then ferce, 
" I no whitt reck ; ne you the like need to reherce. 

" But, faire Fidessa, sithens Fortunes giule. 

Or enimies powre, hath now captived you, 

Returne from whence ye came, and rest a while, 

Till morrow next, that I the Elfe subdew. 

And with Sansfoyes dead dowry you endew.'* 

"Ay me, that is a double death," she said, 

" With proud foes sight my sorrow to renew: 

Where ever yet I be, my secret aide 

Shall follow you." So, passing forth, she him ohsidL 



THE FAEEIB QtTEENB. 



CANTO V. 

The faithfull knight in equall field 

Subdewes his faithlesse foe ; 
Whom false Duessa saves, and for 

His cure to hell does goe. 

The noble hart tliat harbours vertuous thought. 

And is with childe of glorious great intent, 

Can never rest, untill it forth have brought 

Th' eternall brood of glorie excellent. 

Such restlesse passion did all night torment 

The flamiug corage of that Faery knight. 

Devizing, how that doughtie tumament 

"With greatest honour be atchieven might: 

Still did he wake, and still did watch for dawning light. 

At last, the golden orientall gate 

Of greatest heaven gan to open fayre. 

And Phoebus, fresh as brydegrome to his mate. 

Came dauncing forth, shaking his deawie hay re; 

And hurld his glistring beams through gloomy ayre. 

Which when the wakeful Elfe perceiv'd, streightway 

He started up, and did him selfe prepayre 

In sunbright armes, and battailous array; 

Por with that Pagan proud he combatt will that day. 

And forth he conies into the commune hall ; 

Where earely waite him many a gazing eye, 

To weet what end to straunger knights may falL 

There many minstrales maken melody. 

To drive away the dull melancholy; 

And many bardes, that to the trembling chord 

Can tune their timely voices cunningly; 

And many chroniclers, that can record 

Old loves, and warres for ladies doen by many a lord, 

Soone after comes the cruell Sarazin, 

In woven maile all armed warily; 

And steruly lookes at hini, who not a pin • 

Does care for looke of hving creatures eye. 

They bring them wines of Greece and Araby, 

And daintie spices fetch from furthest Ynd, 

To kindle heat of corage privily; 

And in the wine a solemne oth they bynd 

T' observe the sacred lawes of armes, that are assynd. 



THE FAEEIB QtTEENE. 43 

At last forth comes that far renowmed queene; 

With royall pomp and princely maiestie 

She is ybrought unto a paled greene. 

And placed under stately canapee, 

The warlike feates of both those knights to see. 

On th* other side in all mens open vew 

Duessa placed is, and on a tree 

Sansfoy his shield is hangd with bloody hew: 

Both those, the lawrell girlonds to the victor dew. 

A shrilling trompett sownded from on hye, 

And unto battaill bad themselves addresser 

Their shining shieldes about their wrestes they tye. 

And burning blades about their heades doe blesse. 

The instruments of wrath and heavinesse: 

With greedy force each other doth assayle. 

And strike so fiercely, that they do impresse 

Deepe dinted furrowes in the battred mayle : 

The yron waUes to ward their blowes are weak and frailo* 

The Sarazin was stout and wondrous strong. 

And heaped blowes like yron hammers great; 

For after blood and vengeance he did long. 

The knight was fiers, and full of youthly heat. 

And doubled strokes, like dreaded thunders threat: 

For all for praise and honour did he fight. 

Both stricken stryke, and beaten both doe beat; 

That from their shields forth flyeth firie light. 

And helmets, hewen deepe, shew marks of eithers mights 

So th' one for wrong, the other strives for right: 

As when a gryfon, seized of his pray, 

A dragon fiers encountreth in his flight. 

Through widest ayre making his ydle way. 

That would his rightfull ravine rend away: 

With hideous horror both together smight. 

And souce so sore, that they the heavens affray : 

The wise soothsayer, seeing so sad sight, 

Th' amazed vulgar telles oi warres and mortal fight. 

So th* one for wrong, the other strives for right; 
And each to deadly shame would drive his foe: 
The cruell Steele so greedily doth bight 
In tender flesh, that streames of blood down flow ; 
With which the armes, that earst so bright did shoWi 
Into a pure vermillion now are dyde. 
Great ruth in all the gazers harts did grow. 
Seeing the gored woundes to gape so wyde, 
That victory they dare not wish to either side. 



44 THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 

At last the Paynim diaunst to cast Ms eye, 
His suddein eye, flaming with wrathfull fyre. 
Upon liis brothers shield, which hong thereby: 
Therewith redoubled was his raging yre, 
And said; *'Ah! wretched sonne of wofull syre, 
Doest thou sit wayhng by blacke Stygian lake, 
Whylest here thy shield is hangd for victors hyreP 
And, sluggish german, doest thy forces slake 
To after-send ms foe, that him may overtake ? 

" Go, caytive Elfe, him quickly overtake. 

And soone redeeme from his long-wandring woe: 

Goe, guiltie ghost, to him my message make, 

That I his smeld have quit from dying foe." 

Therewith upon his crest he stroke him so. 

That twise he reeled, readie twise to fall : 

End of the doubtfull battaile deemed tho 

The lookers on; and lowd to him gan call 

The false Duessa, " Thin^the shield, and I, and all!* 

Soone as the Faerie heard his ladie speake. 

Out of his swowning dreame he gan awake; 

And quickning faith, that erst was woxen weake. 

The creeping deadly cold away did shake; 

Tho mov'd with wrath, and shame, and ladies sake. 

Of all attonce he cast aveng'd to be. 

And with so* exceeding furie at him strake. 

That forced him to stoupe upon his knee : 

Had he not stouped so, he should have cloven bee. 

And to him said ; " Goe now, proud miscreant, 

Thyselfe thy message do to german deare ; 

Alone he, wandring, thee too long doth want: 

Goe say, his foe thy shield with his doth beare/* 

Therewith his lieavie hand he high gan reare. 

Him to have slaine; when lo ! a darkesome clowd 

Upon him fell; he no where doth appeare, 

But vanisht is. The Elfe him calls alowd. 

But answer none receives ; the darknes him does slirowd. 

In haste Duessa from her place arose. 

And to him running sayd; " O pro west knight. 

That ever ladie to her love did chose. 

Let now abate the terrour of your might. 

And quench the flame of furious despight 

And bloodie vengeance : lo ! th' infernall powres. 

Covering your foe with cloud of deadly night. 

Have borne him hence to Plutoes balef aU bowres : 

The conquest yours; I yours; the shield and glory yours !** 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 45 

!N"ot all so satisfide, with greedy eye 

He sought, all round about, his thirsty blade 

To bathe in blood of faithlesse enimy; 

"Who all that while lay hid in secrete shade: 

He standes amazed how he thence should fade. 

At last the trumpets triumph sound on hie 

And running heralds humble homage made, 

Greeting him goodly with new victorie; 

And to him brought the shield, the cause of enmitie. 

Wherewith he goeth to that soveraine gueene ; 
And, falling her before on lowly knee, 
To her makes present of his service scene ; 
"Which she accepts with thankes and goodly gree. 
Greatly advauncing his great chevalree : 
So marcLeth home, and by her takes the knight. 
Whom aU the people folio we with great glee. 
Shouting, and clapping all their hands on hight, 
That aU the ayre it fils, and flyes to heaven bright. 

Home is he brought, and layd in sumptuous bed: 

Where many skilfull leaches him abide 

To salve his hurts, that yet still freshly bled. 

In wine and oyle they wash his woundes wide, 

And softly gan embalme on everie side. 

And all the while most heavenly melody 

About the bed sweet musicke did divide. 

Him to beguile of griefe and agony: 

And all the while Duessa wept full bitterly. 

As when a wearie traveiler, that strayes V 

By muddy shore of broad seven-niouthed Nile, ) 
TJnweeting of the perillous wandring wayes, ' 

Doth meete a cruell craftie crocodile. 
Which, in false griefe hyding liis harmefull guile. 
Doth weepe full sore, and sheddeth tender teares; / 
The foolish man, that pities all this while ^ -. 

His mournefull plight, is swallowed up unwares ;' - / 
PorgetfuU of his owne that mindes an others cares. 

So wept Duessa untiU eventyde, 

^hat shyning lampes in loves high house were light : 

Then forth she rose, ne lenger would abide; 

But comes unto the place, where th* hethen knight. 

In slombring swownd nigh voyd of vitall spright. 

Lay cover'd with inchaunted cloud all day: 

Whom when she found, as she him left in plight. 

To wayle his wofuU case she would not stay, 

But to the easterne coast of heaven makes speedy w^» 



46 THE PAEEIE QUEENE. 

Where griesly iNiglit, with visage deadly sad. 

That Phoebus chearefuU face durst never vew. 

And in a foule blacke pitchy mantle clad, 

She findes forth comming from her darksome mew; 

Where she all day did hide her hated hew. 

[Before the dore her yron charet stood. 

Already harnessed for iourney new, 

And cole-blacke steedes yborne of hellish brood. 

That on their rusty bits did champ, as they were wood. 

Who when she saw Duessa, sunny bright, 
Adornd with gold and iewels shining cleare. 
She greatly grew amazed at the sight, 
And th' unacquainted light began to feare ; 
(For never did such brightnes there appeare;) 
And would have backe retyred to her cave, 
Untill the witches speach she gan to heare. 
Saying; " Yet O thou dreaded dame, I crave 
Abyde, till I have told the message which I have.** 

She stayd ; and forth Duessa gan proceede ; 

*' O thou, most auncient grandmother of all, 

More old than love, whom thou at first didst breede^ 

Or that great house of gods cselestiall ; 

Which wast begot in Dsemogorgons hall, 

And sawst the secrets of the world unmade ; 

Why suffredst thou thy nephewes deare to fall 

With Elfin sword most shamefully betrade ? 

Lo, where the stout Sansioy doth sleepe in deadly shade ! 

" And., him before, I saw with bitter eyes 

The bold Sansfoy shrinck underneath his speare ; 

And now the pray of fowlea in field he lyes, 

[Nor way Id of frieudes, nor layd on groning beare. 

That whylome was to me too dearely deare. 

O ! what of gods then boots it to be borne, 

If old Aveugles soDnes so evill heare ? 

Or who, shall not great Nightes children scorne, 

When two of three her nephews are so fowle forlorne P 

" Up, then ; up, dreary dame, of darknes queene ; 
Go, gayther up the reliques of thy race ; 
Or else goe, them avenge ; and let be scene 
That dreaded Night in brightest day hath place, 
And can the children of fay re Light deface." 
Her feeling speaches some compassion mov'd 
In hart, and chaunge in that great mothers face s 
Yet pitty in her hart was never prov'd 
Till then -, for evermore she hated, never lov'd : 



THE FAERIE QTTEENE, 47 

And said, " Deare daugliter, rightly may I rew 
The fall of famous children born of mee, 
And good successes, which their foes ensew : 
But who can turne the streame of destinee. 
Or breake the chayne of strong necessitee, 
Which fast is tyde to loves eternall seat ? 
The sonnes of Day he favoureth, I see, 
And by my mines thinkes to make them great: 
To make one great by others losse is bad excheat. 

"Yet shall they not escape so freely all; ^ 
For some shall pay the price of others guilt : 
And he, the man that made Sansfoy to fall. 
Shall with his owne blood price that he has spilt. 
But what art thou, that telst of nephews kilt ?" 
" I, that do seeme not I, Duessa ame,'* 
Quoth she, " how ever now, in garments gilt 
And gorgeous gold arrayd, I to thee came ; 
Duessa I, the daughter of Deceipt and Shame.** 

Then, bowing downe her aged backe, she kist 

The wicked witch, s^ing, " In that faj^re face 

The false resemblaunce of Deceipt, I wist. 

Did closely lurke ; yet so true-seeming grace 

It carried, that I scarse in darksome place 

Could it discerne ; though I the mother bee 

Of Falshood, and roote of Duessaes race. 

O welcome, child, whom I have longd to see, 

And now have seene unwares ! Lo, now I goe with thee.** 

Then to her yron wagon see betakes, 

And with her beares the fowle welfavourd witch : 

Through mirkesome aire her ready way she makes. 

Her twyfold teme (of which two blacke as pitch. 

And two were browne, yet each to each unlich) 

Did softly swim away, ne ever stamp 

Unlesse she chaunst their stubborne mouths to twitch j 

Then, foaming tarre, their bridles they would champ, 

And trampling the fine element would fiercely ramp. 

So well they sped, that they be come at length 
Unto the place, whereas the Paynim lay 
Devoid of outward sence and native strength, 
Coverd with charmed cloud from vew of day 
And sight of men, since his late lucklesse fray. 
His cruell woundes with cruddy bloud congeald 
They binden up so wisely as they may. 
And handle softly, till they can be heald: 
So lay him in her charett, close in night conceald. 



4B THE PAEEIE QTTEENE. 

And, all tlie wliile slie stood upon the ground. 
The wakefull dogs did never cease to bay; 
As giving warning of th' unwonted sound, 
"With whicli lier yron wlieeles did tliem affray. 
And her darke griesly looke them much dismay. 
The messenger of death, the ghastly owle. 
With drery shriekes did also her bewray; 
And hungry wolves continually did howle 
At her abhorred face, so filthy and so fowle. 

Thence turning backe in silence soft they stole. 

And brought the heavy corse with easy pace 

To yawning gulfe of deep Avernus hole : 

By that same hole an entraunce, darke and bace, 

With smoake and sulphur hiding all the place. 

Descends to hell : there creature never past. 

That backe retourned without heavenly grace ; 

!But dreadfull furies, which their chaines have brast, 

And damned sprights sent forth to make iU men aghast. 

By that same way the direfull dames doe drive 

Their moumefull charet, fild with rusty blood, 

And downe to Plutoes house are come bilive : 

Which passing through, on every side them stood 

The trembling ghosts with sad amazed mood, 

Chattring their iron teeth, and staring wide 

With stonie eies ; and all the hellish brood 

Of feends infernall flockt on every side, 

To gaze on erthly wight, that with the Night durst ride. 

They pas the bitter waves of Acheron, 
Where many soules sit wailing woefuUy ; 
And come to fiery flood of Phlegeton, 
Whereas the damned ghostes in torments fry, 
And with sharp shrilling shriekes doe bootlesse cry. 
Cursing high love, the which them thither sent. 
The hous of endlesse Paine is built thereby. 
In which ten thousand sorts of punishment 
The cursed creatures doe eternally torment. 

Before the threshold dreadfull Cerberus 

His three deformed heads did lay along. 

Curled with thousand adders venomous ; 

And lilled forth his bloodjr flaming tong: 

At them he gan to reare his bristles strong, 

And feUy gnarre, untill Dayes enemy 

Pid him appease; then downe his taile he hong^ 

And suflered them to passen quietly: 

Por she in hell and heaven had power equally. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 49 

There was Ixion turned on a wlieele. 
For daring tempt the queene of heaven to sin> 
And Sisyphus an huge round stone did reelo 
Against an hill, ne might from labour hn ; 
There thirsty Tantalus hong by the chin ; 
And Tityus fed a vultur on his maw ; 
Typhoeus ioynts were stretched on a gin '; 
Theseus condemnd to endlesse slouth by law; 
And fifty sisters water in leke vessels draw. 

They, all beholding worldly wights in place, 
Leave off their worke, unmindfull of their smarts 
To gaze on them; who forth by them doe pace. 
Till they be come unto the furthest part; 
Where was a cave ywrought by wondrous ar4| 
Deepe, darke, uneasy, dolefull, comfortlesse, 
In which sad Aesculapius far apart 
Emprisond was m. chaines remedilesse; 
For that Hippolytus rent corse he did redresso. 

Hippolytus a iolly huntsman was, 

That wont in charett chace the foming bore; 

He aU his peeres in beauty did surpas : 

But ladies love, as losse of time, forbore : 

His wanton stepdame loved him the more ; 

But, when she saw her offred sweets refusd. 

Her love she turnd to hate, and him before 

His father fierce of treason false accusd, 

And with her gealous termes his open eares abusd; 

Who, all in rage, his sea-god syre besought 

Some cursed vengeaunce on his sonne to cast : 

From surging gulf two monsters streight were brougM ; 

With dread whereof his chacing steedes aghast 

Both charett swifte and huntsman overcast. 

His goodly corps, on ragged cliffs yrent, 

Was quite dismembred, and his members chast 

Scattered on every mountaine as he went, 

That of Hippolytus was lefte no moniment. 

His cruell stepdame, seeing what was donne. 
Her wicked daies with wretched knife did en(3» 
In death avowing th' innocence of her sonne. 
Which hearing, his rash syre began to rend 
His heare, and hasty tong that did offend : 
Tho, gathering up the reliques of his smart. 
By Dianes meanes who was Hippolyts frend. 
Them brought to Aesculape, that by his art 
Did heale them all againe, and ioyned every parfc 



50 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

Sucli wondrous science in mans witt to rain 
When love avizd, that could the dead revive 
And fates expired could renew again, 
Of endlesse life he might him not deprive ; ^ 
But unto hell did thrust him him downe alive^ 
"With jlashing thunderbolt y wounded sore ; 
Where, long remaining, he did alwaies strive 
Himselfe with salves to health for to restore, 
And slake the heavenly fire that raged evermore. 

There auncient Night arriving, did alight 
From her nigh- weary wayne, and in her armes 
To Aesculapius brought the wounded knight : 
"WTiom having softly disaraid of armes, 
Tho gan to him discover all his harmes, 
Beseeching him with prayer, and with praise, 
If either salves, or oyles, or herbes, or charmes, 
A fordonne wight from dore of death mote raise, 
He wo aid at her request prolong her nephews daies. 

"Ah dame," quoth he, *Hhou temptest me in vaine 

To dare the thing, which daily yet I rew ; 

And the old cause of my continued paine 

With like attempt to hke end to renew. 

Is not enough, that, thrust from heaven dew. 

Here endlesse penaunce for one fault I pay; 

But that redoubled crime with vengeaunce new 

Thou biddest me to eeke? can Mght defray [Day?** 

The wrath of thundring love, that rules both Night and 

" Not so," quoth she ; *' but, sith that heavens king 

From hope of heaven hath thee excluded quight, 

Whyvfearest thou, that canst not hope for thing; 

And fearest not that more thee hurten might. 

Now in the powre of everlasting Night ? 

Goe to then, O thou far renowmed sonne 

Of great Apollo, shew thy famous might 

In medicine, that els hath to thee wonne 

Great pains, and greater praise, both never to be donnc." 

Her words prevaild ; and then the learned leach 
His cunning hand gan to his wounds to lay. 
And all things els the which .his art did teach ; 
Which havhig scene, from thence arose away 
The mother of dredd Darknesse, and let stay 
Aveugles sonne there in the leaches cure ; 
And, backe retourning, took her wonted way 
To ronne her timely race, whilst Phoebus pure 
In westerne waves his weary wagon did recure. 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENB. 61 

The false Duessa, leaving noyous M^ht, 

Eeturnd to stately pallace of Dame JPryde ; 

Where when she came, she found the Faery knight 

Departed thence ; albee (his woundes wyde 

Not throughly heald) unready were to ryde. 

Good cause he had to hasten thence away ; 

For on a day his wary dwarfe had spyde 

Where, in a dungeon deepe, huge nombers lay 

Of caytive wretched thralls, that wayled night and day; 

(A ruefull sight as could be scene with eie ;) 

Of whom he learned had in secret wise 

The hidden cause of their captivitie ; ^ 

How mortgaging their lives to Covetise,^ 

Through wastfull pride and wanton riotise, 

They were by law of that proud tyrannesse,^ 

Provokt with Wrath and Envyes false surmise. 

Condemned to that dongeon mercilesse, ^ 

Where they should live in wo, and dye in wretchednesse. 

There was that great proud king of Babylon, 

That would compell all nations to adore 

And him, as onely God, to call upon ; 

Till, through celestiall doome thrown out of dore, 

Into an oxe he was transformd of yore. 

There also was king Croesus, that enhaunst 

His hart too high through his great richesse store ; 

And proud Antiochus, the which advaunst 

His cursed hand gainst God, and on his altares daunst. 

And, them long time before, great Nimrod was, 

That first the world with sword and fire warrayd ; 

And after him old Ninus far did pas 

In princely pomp, of all the world obayd, 

There also was that mightie monarch layd 

Low under all, yet above all in pride. 

That name of native syre did fowle upbrayd, 

And would as Ammons sonne be magnifide ; 

Till, scornd of God and man, a shamefull death he dide« 

All these together in one heape were throwne. 
Like carkases of beastes m Lsaichers stall. 
And, in another corner, wide were strowne 
The antique ruins of the Romanes fall : 
Great E-omulus, the grandsyre of them all 
Proud Tarquin ; and too lordly Lentulus 5 
Stout Scipio ; aod stubborne Ilanniball; 
Ambitious Sylla ; and stern e Marius ; 
High Caesar; great Pompey; and fiers Antoniti(J» 



63 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Amongst tliese miglitie men were wemen mijct. 

Proud wemen,^ vaine, forgetfull of their yoke : 

The bold Semiramis, whose sides transfixt 

With sonnes own blade her fowle reproches spoke : 

Fayre Sthenoboea, that her selfe did choke 

With wilfull chord, for wanting of her will ; 

High-minded Cleopatra, that with stroke 

Of aspes sting her selfe did stoutly kill : 

And thousands moe the like, that did that dongeon filL 

Besides the endlesse routes of wretched-thralles. 
Which thether were assembled, day by day, 
From all the world,^ after their wofull falles 
Through wicked pride and wasted welthes decay. 
But most, of all which in that dongeon lay, 
Fell from high princes courtes, or ladies bowres ; 
Where they in ydle pomp, or wanton play. 
Consumed had their goods and thriftlesse howres, 
And lastly thrown themselyes into these heavy stowres. 

Whose case whenas the careful dwarfe had tould. 
And made ensample of their mournfull sight 
Unto his maister ; he ne lenger would 
There dwell in perill of hke painefull plight, 
But earely rose ; and, ere that dawning light 
Discovered had the world to heaven wyde. 
He by a privy posterne tooke his flight, 
That of no envious eyes he mote be spj^de : 
For, doubtlesse, death ensewd if any him descryde. 

Scarse could he footing find in that fowle way. 

For many corses, like a great lay-stall, 

Of murdred men, which therein strowed lay 

Without remorse or decent funerall ; 

Which, al through that great Princesse Pride did fall. 

And came to shamefull end : and them besyde. 

Forth ryding underneath the castell wall, 

A donghill of dead carcases he spyde ; 

The dreadfuU spectacle of that sad House of Pryde. 



HHB FAEBIE QTTEENB. 58 



CAIN^TO VI. 

From lawlesse lust by wondrous grace 

Fayre Una is releast ; 
Whome salvage nation does adore, 

And learnes her wise belieast. 

As when a sliip, tliat flyes fayre under sayle. 
An hidden rocke escaped hath unwares, ^ 
That lay in waite her wrack for to bewailej 
The mariner yet halfe amazed stares 
At perill past, and yet in doubt ne dares 
To ioy at his foolhappie oversight : 
So doubly is distrest twixt ioy and cares 
The dreadlesse corage of this Elfin knight. 
Having escapt so sad ensamples in his sight. 

Yet sad he was, that his too hastie speede 
The fayre Duess' had forst him leave behind ; 
And yet more sad, that Una, his deare dreed. 
Her truth had staynd with treason so unkind ; 
Yet cryme in her could never creature find : 
But for his love, and for her owne selfe sake, 
She wandred had from one to other Ynd, 
Him for to seeke, ne ever would forsake : 
Till her unwares the fiers Sansloy did overtake : 

Who, after Archimagoes fowle defeat, 

Led her away into a forest wilde ; 

And, turning wrathful fyre to lustfull heat, 

With beastly sin thought her to have defilde. 

And made the vassall of his pleasures vilde. 

Yet first he cast by treatie, and by traynes, 

Her to persuade that stubborn fort to yilde ; 

For greater conquest of hard love he gaynes, 

That workes it to his will, then he that it constraines. 

With fawning wordes he courted her a while ; 

And, looking lovely and oft sighing sore, 

Her constant hart did tempt with diverse guile : 

But wordes, and lookes, and sighes she did abhore ; 

As rock of diamond stedfast evermore. 

Yet, for to feed his fyrie lustfull eye, 

He snatcht the vele that hong her face before : 

Then gan her beautie shyne as brightest skye. 

And burnt his beastly hart t'enforce her chastitye. 



64 THE FAEBIE QUEENB. 

So when he saw Iiis flatt'ring arts to fayle. 

And subtile engines bett from batteree ; 

With greedy force he gan the fort assayle, 

"Whereof he weend possessed soone to bee. 

And win rich spoile of ransackt chastitee. 

Ah heavens ! that doe this hideous act behold. 

And heavenly virgin thus outraged see, 

How can ye veugeance iust so long withhol4, ^ 

And hurle not flashing flames iipon that Paynim boldP 

The pitteons mayden, careful!, comfortlesse, 
Does throw out thrilling shriekes, and shrieking cryeSf 
(The last vaine helpe of wemens greate distresse,) 
- And with loud plaintes importuneth the skyes ; 
That molten starres doe drop like weeping eyes ; 
And Phoebus, flying so most shameful sight, 
His blushing face in foggy cloud implyes. 
And hydes for shame. What witt of mortal wight 
Can now devise to quitt a thr^ from such a phght P 

Eternall Providence, exceeding thought, 
Where none appeares can make her selfe a way! 
A wondrous way it for this lady wrought. 
From lyons clawes to plucke the gryped pray. 
Her shrill outcrj^es and shriekes so loud did bray. 
That all the woodes and forestes did resownd : 
A troupe of faunes and satjnres far away 
Within the wood were dauncing in a rownd, 
Whiles old Sylvanus slept in shady arber sownd: 

Who, when they heard that pitteons strained voice. 
In haste forsooke their ruralf merriment, 
And ran towardes the far rebownded noyce. 
To weet what wight so loudly did lament. 
Unto the place they come incontinent : 
Whom when the raging Sarazin espyde, 
A rude, mishapen, monstrous rablement, 
Whose like he never saw, he durst not byde ; 
But got his ready steed, and fast away gan ryde. 

The wyld wood-gods, arrived in the place. 

There find the virgin, doolfuU, desolate. 

With ruffled rayments, and fayre blubbred face, 

As her outrageous foe had left her late ; 

And trembling yet through feare of former hate: 

All stand amazed at so uncouth sight. 

And gin to pittie her unhappie state ; 

All stand astonied at her beauty bright, 

J[n their rude eyes unworthy of so wofull plight. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 55 

She, more amazd, in double dread doth dwell. 
And every tender part for feare does shake : 
As when a greedy wolfe, through honger fell, 
A seely lamb far from the flock does talie, 
Of whom he meanes his bloody feast to make, 
A lyon spyes fast running towards him. 
The innocent pray in hast he does forsake ; 
Which, quitt from death, yet quakes in every lim ^ 
With chaunge of feare, to see the lyon looke so grim- 
Such fearefull fitt assaid her trembling hart ; 
Ne worde to speake, ne ioynt to move, she had : 
The salvage nation feele her secret smart, 
And read her sorrow in her count'nance sad ; 
Their frowning forheads, with rough homes yclad 
And rustick horror, all asyde doe lay ; 
And, gently grenning, show a semblance glad 
To comfort her ; and, feare to put away, 
Their backward-bent knees teach her humbly to obay. 

The doubtfuU damzell dare not yet committ 

Her single person to their barbarous truth ; 

But still twixt feare and hope amazd does sitt, 

Late learnd what harme to hasty trust ensu'th : 

They, in compassion of her tender youth, 

And wonder of her beautie soverayne. 

Are wonne with pitty and unwonted ruth ; 

And, all prostrate upon the lowly playne, ^ [fayne. 

Doe kisse her feete, and fawne on her with count'nance 

Their harts she ghesseth by their humble guise, 

And yieldes her to extremitie of time : 

So from the ground she fearlesse doth arise, 

And walketh forth without suspect of crime : 

They, all as glad as birdes of ioyous pryme. 

Thence led her forth, about her dauncing round. 

Shouting, and singing all a shepheards ryme ; 

And with greene braunches strowing all the ground, 

Do worship her as queene with olive girlond cround. 

And all the way their merry pipes they sound. 
That all the woods with double echo ring ; 
And with their horned feet doe weare the ground, 
Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant spring. 
So towards old Sylvanus they her bring ; 
Who, with the noyse awaked, commeth out 
To weet the cause, his weake steps governing 
And aged limbs on cypresse stadle stout ; 
And with an yvie twyne his waste is girt about. 



66 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Far off lie wonders wliat tliem makes so glad. 

Or Bacclms merry fruit tliey did invent, 

Or Cybeles franticke rights have made them mad: 

They, drawing nigh, unto their god present 

That ilowre of fayth and beautie excellent : 

The god himselfe, vewing that mirrhour rare. 

Stood long amaz'd, and burnt in his intent : 

His owne fayre Dryope now he thinks not faire, 

And Pholoe fowle, when her to this he doth compaire. 

The wood-borne people fall before her flat, 

And worship her as goddesse of the wood; 

And old Sylvanus selfe bethinkes not, what 

To thinke of wight so fayre ; but gazing stood 

In doubt to deeme her borne of earthly brood : 

Sometimes dame Yenus selfe he seemes to see; 

But Yenus never had so sober mood : 

Sometimes Diana he her takes to be ; 

But misseth bow and shaftes, and buskins to her kneew 

By vew of her he ginneth to revive 
His ancient love, and dearest Cyparisse ; 
And calles to mind his pourtraiture alive, ^ 
How fayre he was, and yet not fayre to this 5 
And how he slew with glauncing dart amisse 
A gentle hynd, the which the lovely boy 
Pid love as life, above all worldly blisse : 
For griefe whereof the lad n'ould after ioy ; 
But pynd away in anguish and selfe wild annoy. 

The wooddy nymphes, faire Hamadryades, 

Her to behold do thether runne apace ; 

And all the troupe of light-foot JSTaiadea 

Flocke all about to see her lovely face : 

But, when they vewed have her heavenly grace^ 

They envy her in their malitious mind, 

And fly away for feare of fowle disgrace : 

But all the Satyres scorne their woody kind, 

And henceforth nothing faire, but her, on earth they find. 

Glad of such lucke, the luckelesse lucky mayd 

Did her content to please their feeble eyes ; 

And long time with that salvage people stayd. 

To gather breath in many miseryes : 

During which time her gentle wit she plyes. 

To teach them truth, which v/orshipt her in vaine, 

And made her th' image of idolatryes : 

But, when their bootlesse zeale she did restrayne 

From her own worship, they her asse would worship fayn. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENB. 67 

Tfc fortuned, a noble warlike knight 

By iust occasion to that forrest came 

To seeke his kindred, and the lignage right, 

Prom whence he tooke his wel-deserved name: 

He had in armes abroad wonne muchell fame. 

And fild far lands with glorie of his might; 

Plaine, faithfull, trne, and enimy of shame. 

And ever lov'd to fight for ladies right : 

Eut in vaine glorious frayes he litle did delight. 

A satyres sonne yborne in forrest tvyld, 

'By straunge adventure as it did betyde. 

And there begotten of a lady myld, 

Payre Thyamis, the daughter of Labryde; 

That was in sacred bandes of wedlocke tyde 

To Therion, a loose, unruly swa.yne, 

Who had more ioy to raunge the forrest wyde. 

And chase the salvage beast with busie payne. 

Then serve his ladies love, and waste in pleasures vayno. 

The forlorne mayd did with loves longing burne. 

And could not lacke her lovers company ; 

But to the wood she goes, to serve her turne. 

And seeke her spouse, that from her still does fly 

And followes other game and venery : 

A satyre chaunst her wandring for to finde : 

And, kindling coles of lust in brutish eye, 

The loyall linkes of wedlocke did unbinde. 

And made her person thrall unto his beastly kind. 

So long in secret cabin there he held 

Her captive to his sensuall desyre; 

Till that with timely fruit her belly sweld. 

And bore a boy unto that salvage syre : 

Then home he sufFred her for to retyre ; 

Por ransome leaving him the late-borne childe : 

Whom, till to ryper years he gan aspyre, 

He nousled up in life and maners wilde, 

Emongst wild beastes and woods, from laws of men exild©. 

For all he taught the tender ymp, was but 

To banish cowardize and bastard feare : 

His trembling hand he would him force to put 

Upon the lyon and the rugged beare; 

And from the she-beares teats her whelps to teare; 

And eke wyld roring buls he would him make 

To tame, and ryde their backes not made to beare ; 

And the robuckes in flight to overtake : 

That CTerie beast for feare of him did fly and quake. 



58 THE FAEEIE QTJEENB. 

Thei*eby so fearlesse and so fell lie grew, ^ 

That his owne syre and maister of his guise 

Did often tremble at his horrid vew ; 

And oft, for dread of hurt, would him advise 

The angry beastes not rashly to despise, 

ISTor too much to provoke ; for he would learne 

The lyon stoup to him in lowly wise, 

(A lesson hard,) and make the libbard sterne ^ 

Leave roaring, when in rage he for revenge did eame# 

And, for to make his powre approved more, 
Wyld beastes in yron yokes he would compell; 
The spotted panther, and the tusked bore. 
The pardale swift, and the tigre cruell. 
The antelope and wolf, both tiers and fell ; 
And them constrain e in equall teme to draw. 
Such ioy he had their stubborne harts to quell. 
And sturdie courage tame with dreadfull aw ; 
That his beheast they feared, as a tyrans law. 

His loving mother came upon a day 
Unto the woodes, to see her little sonne ; 
And chaunst unwares to meet him in the way. 
After his sportes and cruell pastime donne ; 
When after him a lyonesse did runne, 
That roaring all with rage did lowd requere 
Her children deare, whom he away had wonne : 
The lybn whelpes she saw how he did beare, 
And lull in rugged armes withouten childish feare. 

The fearefull dame all quaked at the sight, 

And turning backe gan fast to fly away ; 

Untill, with love revokt from vaine affright. 

She hardly yet perswaded was to stay. 

And then to him these womanish words gan say: 

" Ah, Satyrane, my dearling and my ioy, 

For love of me leave off this dreadfull play ; 

To dally thus with death is no fit toy : 

Go, find some other play-fellowes, mine own sweet boy.** 

In these and like delightes of bloody game 

He trayned was, till ryper years he raught; 

And there abode, whylst any beast of name 

Walkt in that forrest, whom he had not taught 

To feare his force : and then his courage haught 

Desyrd of forreine foemen to be knowne, 

And far abroad for straunge adventures sought ; 

In which his might was never overthrowne ; 

But through al Faery lond his famous worth wasblowne. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 59 

Yet evermore it was Ms manner faire. 

After long labours and adventures spent. 

Unto those native woods for to repaire, 

To see his syre and oftspriDg auncient. 

And now lie thether came for like intent; 

Where he unwares the fairest Una found, 

Straunge lady, in so straunge habiliment, 

Teaching the Satyres, which her sat around, 

Trew sacred lore, which from her sweet lips did redound* 

He wondred at her wisedome hevenly rare, 
Whose like in womens witt he never knew; 
And, when her curteous deeds he did compare, 
Gan her admire, and her sad sorrowes rew. 
Blaming of Fortune, which such troubles threWf 
And ioyd to make proofe of her cruelty 
On gentle dame, so hurtlesse and so trew* 
Thenceforth he kept her goodly company. 
And learnd her discipline of faith and verity. 

But she, all vowd unto the Hedcrosse knight. 

His wandring perill closely did lament, 

Ne in this new acquaintaunce could delight; 

But her deare heart with anguish did torment. 

And all her witt in secret counsels spent, 

How to escape. . At last in privy wise 

To Satyr ane she shewed her intent; 

Who, glad to gain such favour, gan devise. 

How with that pensive maid he best might thence arise. 

So on a day, when satyres all were gone 
To do their service to Sylvanus old. 
The gentle virgin, left behinde alone. 
He led away with corage stout and bold. 
Too late it was to satyres to be told. 
Or ever hope recover her againe ; 
■ In vaine he seekes that, having, cannot hold.'*^ 
So fast he carried her with carefull paine, 
That they the woods are past, and come now to the plain©. 

The better part now of the lingring day 

They traveild had, whenas they far espide 

A weary wight forwandring by the way; 

And towards him they gan in hast to ride. 

To weete of newes that did abroad betyde, « 

.Or tidings of her knight of the E-edcrosse ; 

But he, them spying gan to turne asyde 

Por feare, as seemd, or for some feigned losse : 

More greedy they of newes fast towards him do crosso. 



60 THE FAERIE QTTEENB. 

A silly man, in simple weedes forworne, 

And solid with dust of the long dried way; 

His sandales were with toilsome travell torne^ 

And face all tand with scorching sunny ray. 

As he had traveild many a sommers day 

Through boyling sands of Arable and Ynde; 

And in his hand a lacobs staiFe, to stay 

His weary Imibs upon; and eke behind 

His scrip did hang, in which his needments he did bini 

The knight, approaching nigh, of him inquerd 

Tidings of warre, and of adventures new ; 

But warres, nor new adventures, none he herd. 

Then Una gan to aske, if aught he knew 

Or heard abroad of that her champion trew. 

That in his armour bare a croslet red. 

" Ay me ! dear e dame," quoth he, " we'd, may I rew 

To tell the sad sight which mine eies have red ; 

These eies did see^ that knight both living and eke ded.** 

That cruell word her tender hart so thrild, 

That suddein cold did ronne through every vaine. 

And stony horrour all her sences fild 

"With dying fitt, that downe she fell for paine. 

The knight her lightly reared up againe. 

And comforted with curteous kind relief^ 

Then, wonne from death, she bad him tellen plaine 

The further processe of her hidden griefe: 

The lesser pangs can beare, who hath endurd the cMef. 

Then gan the pilgrim thus ; " I chaunst this day. 

This fatall day, that shall I ever rew, 

To see two knights, in travell on my way, 

(A sory sight,) arraung'd in batteill new. 

Both breathing vengeaunce, both of wrathfull hew 

My fearefull flesh did tremble at their strife, 

To see their'blades so greedily imbrew, 

That, dronke with blood, yet thristed after life : [knife." 

What more ? the Eedcrosse knight was slaine with Payni'-a 

"Ah ! dearest lord," quoth she, "how might that bee. 

And he the stoutest knight, that ever wonne ?" 

** Ah ! dearest dame," quoth he, "how might I see 

The thing, that might not be, and yet was donne ?** 

**Wherdis," said Satyrane, "thatPajmims sonne. 

That him of life, and us of ioy, hath refte ?" 

•* Not far away," quoth he, " he hence doth wonne, 

Foreby a fountaine, where I late him left [cleft.** 

Washing his bloody wounds, that through the Steele were 



THE PAEEIE QTJEENE. 61 

Therewith, the knight then marched forth in hast, 

"Whiles Una, with huge heavinesse opprest. 

Could not for sorrow follow him so fast ; 

And soone he came, as he the place had ghest. 

Whereas that Pagan proud himselfe did rest 

In secret shadow by a fountaine side ; 

Even he it was, that earst would have supprest 

Faire Una; whom when Satyrane espide, ^ 

With foule reprochfull words he boldly him defide; 

And said ; '' Arise, thou cursed miscreaunt, 

That hast with knightlesse guile, and trecherous train, 

Paire knighthood fowly shamed, and doest vaunt 

That good knight of the E-edcrosse to have slain: 

Arise, and with like treason now maintain 

Thy guilty wrong, or els thee guilty yield." 

The Sarazin, this hearing, rose amain, 

And, catching up in haste his three-square shield 

And shining helmet, soone him buckled to the field ; 

And, drawing nigh him, said;^ "Ah! misbornElfe, 
In evill houre thy foes thee hither sent 
Anothers wrongs to wreak upon thy selfe: 
Yet ill thou blamest me, for having blent 
My name with guile and traiterous intent: 
That Eedcrosse knight, perdie, I never slew; 
But had he beene, where erst his arms were lent, 
Th' enchaujater vaine his errour should not rew: 
But thou his errour shalt, I hope, now proven trew." 

Therewith they gan, both furious and feU, 
To thunder blowes, and fiersly to assaile 
Each other, bent his ehimy to queU ; 
That with their force they perst both plate and mail^ 
And made wide furrowes in their fleshes fraile. 
That it would pitty any living eie: 
Large floods of blood adowne their sides did raile ; 
» But floods of blood could not them satisfie : 
Both hongred after death; both chose to win, or die. • 

So long they fight, and full revenge pursue, 
That, fainting, each themselves to breathen lett; 
And, ofte refreshed, battell oft renue. ^ 
As when two bores, with rancling malice mett, 
Their gory sides fresh bleeding fiercely frett ; « 
Til breathlesse both themselves aside retire. 
Where, foming wrath, their crueU tuskes they whott. 
And trample th' earth, the whiles they may respire ; 
Then backe to fight againe, new breathed and entire. 
4 



62 THE FAERIE QFEENE. 

So fiersly, when these knights had breathed once. 

They gan to fight retourne; increasing more 

Their puissant force, and cruell rage attonce. 

With heaped strokes more hugely than before ; 

That with their drery woundes, and bloody gore. 

They doth deformed, scarsely could bee known. 

By this, sad Una fraught with anguish sore, 

Led with their noise which through the aire was thrown, 

Arriv'd, wher they in erth their fruitles blood had sown. 

Whom all so soone as that proud Sarazin 

Espide, he gan revive the memory 

Of his lend lusts, and late attempted sin; 

And lefte the doubtfull battel hastily, 

To catch her, newly offred to his eie: 

But Satyrane, with strokes him turning, staid. 

And sternely bad him other business phe 

Then hunt the steps of pure unspotted maid: 

Wherewith he al enrag'd these/bitter speaches said!, 

*' O foolish faeries sonne, what fury mad 

Hath thee incenst to hast thy doleful! fate P 

Were it not better I that lady had 

Then that thou hadst repented it too late ? 

Most sencelesse man he, that hinaselfe doth hate 

To love another: Lo then, for thine ayd, 

Here take thy lovers token on thy pate." 

So they to fight; the whiles the royall mayd 

Fledd farre away, of that proud Paynim sore afrayd. 

But that false pilgrim, which that leasing told 

Being in deed old Archimage, did stay 

In secret shadow all this to behold ; 

And much reioiced in their bloody fray: 

But, when he saw the damsell passe away. 

He left his stond, and her pursewd apace. 

In hope to bring her to her last decay. 

But for to tell her lamentable cace, 

And eke this battels ead, will need another placflu 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE* 



CANTO vn- 

The Redcrosse knight is captive made 
By gyaunt proud opprest : 

prince Arthure meets with Una great- 
ly with those newes distrest. 

What man so wise, what earthly witt so ware. 

As to discry the crafty cunning traine. 

By which Deceit doth maske in visour faire. 

And cast her colours died deep in graine, 

To seeme like Truth, whose shape she well can fainc. 

And fitting gestures to her purpose franae, 

The guiltlesse man with guHe to entertaine ? 

Great maistresse of her art was that' false dame. 

The false Duessa, cloked with Eidessaes name. 

Who when, returning from the drery Night, 
She found not in that perilous Hous of Pryde, 
Where she had left the noble Redcrosse knight, 
Her hoped pray; she would no lenger byde. 
But forth she went to seeke him far and wyde. 
Ere long she fownd, whereas he wearie sate 
To rest him selfe, foreby a foxmtain syde. 
Disarmed all of yron-coted plate; 
And by his side his steed the grassy forage ate. 

Hee feedes upon the cooling shade, and bayes 

His sweatie forehead in the breathing wynd, 

Which through the trembling leaves full gently playe3, 

Wherein the chearefull birds of sundrjr kynd 

Doe chaunt sweet musick, to delight his mynd : 

The witch approching gan him fayrely greet. 

And with reproch of carelesnes unkynd 

Upbrayd, for leaving her in place unmeet, 

With fowle words tempring faire, soure gall with hony sweet, 

Unkindnesse past, they gan of S9lace treat, 
And bathe in pleasaunce of the ioyous shade. 
Which shielded them against the boyling heat, 
And, with greene boughes decking a gloomy shade. 
About the fountaine like a girlond made; 
Whose bubbling wave did ever freshly well, 
Ne ever would thrcfligh fervent summer fade: 
The sacred nymph, which therein wont to dwell, 
Waa out of Dianes favor, as it then befell. 



64 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

The cause was tMs: One day, when Plicebe fayre 

With all her band was following the chace, 

This nymph, quite tyr'd with heat of scorching ayre. 

Sat downe to rest in middest of the race : 

The goddesse wroth gan fowly her disgrace. 

And badd the waters, which from her did flow. 

Be such as she her selfe was then in place. 

Thenceforth her waters wexed dull and slow; 

And all, that drinke thereof, do faint and feeble grow* 

Hereof this gentle knight unweeting was; 

And, lying downe upon the sandie graile, 

Pronke of the streame, as cleare as christall glas: 

Eftsoones his manly forces gan to fayle, 

And mightie strong was turnd to feeble frayle. 

His chaunged powres at first themselves not feltj 

Till crudled cold his corage gan assayle, 

And cheareful blood in fayntnes chill did melt, 

Which, like a fever fit, tliough all his bodie swelt 

Yet goodly^ court he made still to his dame, 

Pourd out in loosnesse on tHe grassy grownd, 

Both carelesse of his health, and of his fame: 

Till at the last he heard a dreadfull sownd. 

Which through the wood loud bellowing did rebownd. 

That all the earth for terror seemd to shake. 

And trees did tremble. Th' ELfe, therewith astownd. 

Upstarted lightly from his looser make. 

And his unready weapons gan in hand to take. 

But ere he could his armour on him dight. 

Or gett his shield, his monstrous enimy 

With sturdie steps came stalking in his sight. 

An hideous geaunt, horrible and hye. 

That with his taUnesse seemd to^ threat the skye^ 

The ground eke groned under him for dreed : 

His living like saw never living eye, 

Ne durst behold ; his stature did exceed 

The hight of three the tallest sonnes of mortall seed. 

The greatest Earth his "dncouth mother was. 

And blustring ^olus his boasted syre; 

Who with his breath, which through the world doth pas. 

Her hollow womb did secretly inspyre, 

And fild her hidden caves with stormie yre. 

That she conceiv'd; and trebling the dew time. 

In which the wombes of wemen do ex^yre. 

Brought forth this monstrous masse of earthly slyme, 

Puft up with emptie wynd, and fild with sinfull crymo. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 65 

So growen great, through arrogant delight. 

Of th' high descent whereof he was yborne. 

And through presumption of his matcblesse might, 

All other powres and knighthood he did scorne. 

Such now he marcheth to this man forlorne, 

And left to losse; his stalking steps are stayde 

Upon a snaggy oke, which he had torne 

Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made 

His mortall mace, wherewith his foemen he dismayde. 

That, when the knight he spyde, he gan advaunce 
With huge force and insupportable mayne, 
And towardes him with dreadfull fury praunce; 
Who haplesse, and eke hopelesse, all in vaine 
Did to him pace sad battaile to darrayne, 
Disarmd, disgraste, and inwardly dismayde ; 
And eke so faint in every ioynt and vayne, 
Through that fraile fountain, which him feeble made. 
That scarsely could he weeld his bootlesse single blade. 

The geaunt strooke so maynly mercilesse. 

That could have overthrowne a stony towre ; 

And, were it not hevenly grace that did him blesse, 

He had beene pouldred all, as thin as ilowre; 

But he was wary of that deadly stowre, 

And lightly lept from underneath the blow : 

Yet so exceeding was the villeins powre 

That with the winde it did him overthrow, 

And all his sences stoond, that still he lay full low. 

As when that divelish yron engin, wrought 

In deepest hell, and framd by furies skill, 

With windy nitre and quick sulphur fraught. 

And ramd with bollet rownd, ordaind to kill, 

Conceiveth fyre ; the heavens it doth fill 

With thundring noyse, and all the ayre doth choke. 

That none can breath, nor see, nor heare at will, 

Through smouldry cloud of duskish stincking smoke ; 

That th* only breath him daunts, who hath escapt the stroke^ 

So daunted when the geaunt saw the knight, 
His heavie hand he heaVed up on hye, 
And him to dust thought to have battred quight, 
Untill Duessa loud to him gan crye ; 
" O great Orgogho, greatest under skye, 
Oh ! hold thy mortall hand for ladies sake ; 
Hold for my sake, and doe him not to dye, 
But vanquisht thine eternall bondslave make. 
And me, thy worthy meed, unto thy leman take.** 



66 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

He liearkned, and did stay from further liarmeSf 

To gayne so goodly guerdon as slie spake: 

So willingly she came into his armes, 

Who her as willingly to grace did take. 

And was possessed of his newfound make. 

Then up he tooke the slombred sencelesse corse ; 

And, ere he could out of his swowne awake. 

Him to his castle brought with hastie forse, 

And in a dongeon deepe him threw without remorse. 

From that day forth Duessa was his deare. 

And highly honour d in his haughtie eye. 

He gave her gold and purple pall to weare. 

And triple crowne set on her head full hye, 

And her endowd with royall maiestye: 

Then, for to make her dreaded more of men, 

And peoples hartes with awfull terror tye, 

A monstrous beast ybredd in filthy fen ^ 

He chose, which he had kept long time in darksom den* 

Such one it was, as that renowmed snake 

Which great Alcides in Stremona slew. 

Long fostred in the filth of Lerna lake : 

Whose many heades out-budding ever new 

Did breed him endlesse labor to subdew. 

But this same monster much more ugly was ; 

[For seven great heads out of his body grew ! 

An yron brest, and back of scaly bras, 

And all embrewd in blood his eyes did shine as glas. 

His tayle was stretched out in wondrous length. 
That to the hous of hevenly gods it raught ; 
And with extorted powre, and borrow'd strength. 
The ever burning lamps from thence it braught, 
And prowdly threw to ground, as things of naught 
And underneath his filthy feet did tread 
The sacred thiuges, and holy heastes foretaught. 
Upon this dreadfull beast with sevenfold head 
He sett the false Duessa, for more aw and dread. 

The wofull dwarfe, which saw his maisters fall, 

(Wliiles he had keeping of his grasing steed,) 

And valiant knight become a caytive thrall; 

When all was past, tooke up his forlorne weed ; 

His mightie armour, missing rnost at need; 

His silver shield, now idle, maisterlesse ; 

His poynant speare, that many made to bleed; 

The rueful moniments of heavinesse ; 

And with them all departes, to tell his great distress®. 



THE FAERIE QUEENS. 67 

He had not travaild long, when on the way- 
He wofull lady, wofull Una met 
Past flying from that Paynims greedy pray, 
Whilest Satyrane him from pursuit did let : 
Who when her eyes she on the dwarf had set. 
And saw the signes that deadly tydinges spake. 
She fell to ground for sorrowfull regret, 
And lively breath her sad brest did forsake ; 
Yet might her pitteous hart be seen to pant and quake. 

The messenger of so unhappie newes 

Would faine have dyde; dead was his heart within 

Yet outwardly some httle comfort shewes : 

At last, recovering hart, he does begin 

To rub her temples, and to chaufe her chin, 

And everie tender part does tosse and turne: 

So hardly he the flitted life does win 

IJnto her native prison to retourne. 

Then gms her grieved ghost thus to lament and moumo: 

*' Ye dreary instruments of dolefull sight. 
That doe this dreadly spectacle behold, 
Why doe ye lenger feed on loathed light. 
Or liking And to gaze on earthly mould, 
Sith cruell Eates the carefull threds unibuld. 
The which my life and love together tyde ? 
Now let the stony dart of sencelesse Cold 
Perce to my hart, and pas through everie side; 
And let eternall night so sad sight fro me hyde. 

*' O, lightsome Day, the lampe of highest love, 

Pirst made by him mens wandring wayes to guyde. 

When darknesse he in deepest dongeon drove ; 

Henceforth thy hated face for ever hyde, 

And shut up heavens windowes shyning wyde : 

For earthly sight can nought but sorrow breed. 

And late repentance, which shall long abyde 

Mine eyes no more on vanitie shall feed, 

But, seeled up with death, shall have their deadly meed." 

Then downe againe she fell unto the ground ; 

But he her quickly reared up againe : 

Thrise did she sinke adowne in deadly swownd. 

And thrise he her reviv'd with busie paine. 

At last when life recover'd had the raine. 

And over-wrestled his strong enimy. 

With foltring tong, and trembling everie vaine, 

" Tell on," quoth she, *' the wofull tragedy. 

The which these reliques sad present unto mine eye» 



68 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

" Tempestuous Fortune hatli spent all her spiglit. 

And thrilling Sorrow throwne his utmost dart : 

Thy sad tong cannot tell more heav:v- phght 

Then that I feele, and harbour in mine hart : 

*Who hath endur'd the whole, can beare ech part 

If death it be; it is not the first wound, ^ 

That launched hath my brest with bleeding smart. 

Begin, and end the bitter balefull stound ; 

If lesse then that I feare, more favour I have found.** 

Then gan the dwarfe the whole discourse declare; 
The subtile traines of Archimago old ; 
The wanton loves of false Fidessa fayre, 
IBought with the blood of vanquisht Paynim bold ; 
The wretched payre transformed to treen mould; 
The House of Pryde, and perilles round about; 
The combat, which he with Sansioy did hould; 
The lucMesse conflict with the gyaunt stout. 
Wherein captiv'd, of life or death he stood in doubt. 

She heard with patience all unto the end; 

And strove to maister sorrowfull assay. 

Which greater grew, the more she did contend. 

And almost rent her tender hart in tway ; 

And love fresh coles unto her fire did lay: 

For greater love, the greater is the losse. 

Was never lady loved dearer day 

Then she did love the knight of the Eedcrosse; 

For whose deare sake so many troubles her did tossD. 

At last when fervent sorrpw slaked was, 

She up arose, resolving him to find ^ 

Alive or dead ; and forward forth did pas, 

All as the dwarfe the way to her assynd: 

And evermore, in constant carefull mind. 

She fedd her wound with fresh renewed bale : ^ 

Long tost with stormes, and bet with bitter wind. 

High over hills, and lowe adowne the dale, 

She wandredmany a wood, and measurd many a vale. 

At last she chaunced by good hap to meet 

A goodly knight, faire marching by the way. 

Together with his sguyre, arrayed meet: 

His glitterand armom' shined far away, 

Like glauncing fight of Phoebus brightest ray; 

From top to toe no place appeared bare. 

That deadly dint of Steele endanger may: 

Athwart his brest a bauldrick brave he ware, [rare: 

That shind, like twinkling stars, with stones most pretious 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. ( 

And, in tlie midst thereof, one pretious stone 
Of wondrous worth, and eke of wondrous mights, 
Shapt hke a ladies head, exceeding shone. 
Like Hesperus emongst the lesser lights. 
And strove for to amaze the weaker sights : 
Thereby his mortall blade full comely hong 
In yvory sheath, ycarv'd with curious slights, 
Whose hilts were burnisht gold; and handle strong 
Of mother perle ; and buckled with a golden tong. 

His haughtie helmet, horrid all with gold, 

Both glorious brightnesse and great terrour bredd: 

For all the crest a dragon did enfold 

With greedie pawes, and over all did spredd 

His golden winges ; his dreadfull hideous hedd 

Close couched on the bever, seemd to throw 

From flaming mouth bright sparckles fiery redd, 

That suddeine horrour to fainte hartes did show. 

And scaly tayle was stretcht adowne his back full low. 

Upon the top of all his loftie crest, 

A bounch of heares discolourd diversly, 

With sprincled pearle and gold fuU richly drest. 

Did shake, and seemd to daunce for iollity; 

Like to an almond tree ymounted hye 

On top of greene SeKnis all alone, ^ 

With blossoms brave bedecked daintily; 

Whose tender locks do tremble every one ; 

At everie little breath, that under heaven is blown©* 

His warlike shield all closely cover'd was, 

Ne might of mortall eye be ever scene ; » 

Not made of Steele, nor of enduring bras, 

(Such earthly mettals soon consumed beene,) 

But all of diamond perfect pure and cleene 

It framed was, one massy entire mould. 

Hew n out of adamant rocke with engines keene. 

That point of speare it never percen could, 

Ne dint of direfuU sword divide the substance would. 

The same to wight he never wont disclose. 
But whenas monsters huge he would dismay. 
Or daunt unequall armies of his foes. 
Or when the flying heavens he would affray: 
For so exceeding shone his glistring ray. 
That Phoebus golden face it did attaint, 
• As when a cloud his beames doth over-lay; 
And silver Cynthia wexed pale and faynt, 
As when her face is staynd with magicke arts constraint. 



70 THE PAEBIE QUEENE. 

Ko magicke arts hereof had any might, 
IsTor bloody wordes of bold enchaunters call} 
But all that was not such as seemd in sight 
Before that shield did fade, and suddeine fall : 
And, when him list the raskall routes appall, 
Men into stones therewith he could transmew. 
And stones to dust, and dust to nought at all : 
And, when him hst the prouder lookes subdew, 
He would them gazing blind, or tume to other heTf, 

ISTe let it seeme that credence this exceedes ; 
For he, that made the same, was knowne right well 
To have done much more admirable deedes : 
It Merlin was, which whylome did exceU 
All living wightes in might of magicke spell : 
Both shield, and sword, and armour all he wrought 
For this young prbice, when first to armes he fell ; 
But, when he dyde, the Faery Queene it brought 
To Faerie lond; where yet it may be seene, if sought. 

A gentle youth, his dearely loved squire. 
His speare of heben wood behind him bare, 
"Whose harmeful head, thrise heated in the fire. 
Had riven many a brest with pikehead square : 
A goodly person; and could menage faire 
His stubborne steed with curbed canon bitt, 
"Who under him did trample as the aire, 
And chauft, that any on his backe should sitt; 
The yron rowels into frothy fome he bitt. 

Whenas this knight nigh to the lady drew, 

With lovely court he gan her entertain e ; 

But, when he heard her aunswers loth, he knew 

Some secret sorrow did her heart distraine : 

Which to allay, and calme her storming paine, 

Faire feeling words he wisely gan display. 

And, for her humor fitting purpose faine. 

To tempt the cause it selfe for to bewray ; 

Wherewith enmovd, these bleeding words she gan to sayj 

"What worlds dehght, or ioy of living speach. 

Can hart, so plungd in sea of sorrowes deep. 

And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach ? 

The carefull Cold beginneth for to creep. 

And in my heart his yron arrow steep, 

Soone as I thinke upon my bitter bale. 

Such helplesse harmes yts better hidden keep. 

Then rip up griefe, w^here it may not availe ; 

My last left comfort is my woes to weepe and waile.'' 



THE FAEEIB QUEENE. 71 

" All lady deare," quoth, tlien tlie gentle knight, 

" Well may I ween yonr griefe is wondrous great ; 

For wondrous great griefe groneth in my spright. 

Whiles thus I heare you of your sorrowes treat. 

Eut, woefull lady, let me you intrete 

'For to unfold the anguish of your hart : 

Mishaps are maistred by advice discrete. 

And counsell mitigates the greatest smart ; 

Pound never help, who never would his hurts impart." 

" Oh ! but," quoth she, ^^ great griefe will not be tould, 

And can more easily be thought then said.** 

** Eight so,*' quoth he : " but he, that never would, 

Could never : will to might gives greatest aid.** 

" But griefe,** quoth she, " does greater grow displaid. 

If then it find not helpe, and breeds despaire.'* 

" Despair breeds not,** quoth he, " where faith is staid." 

" ISTo faith so fast,** quoth she, **but flesh does paire." 

" Flesh may empaire," quoth he, " but reason can repaire." 

His goodly reason, and well-guided speach, 

So deepe did settle in her gracious thought. 

That her perswaded to disclose the breach 

Which love and fortune in her hart had wrought ; 

And said ; " Faire sir, I hope good hap have brought 

You to inquere the secrets of my griefe ; 

Or that your wisdome will direct my thought ; 

Or that your prowesse can me yield reliefs ; 

Then heare the story sad, which I shall tell you brief. 

" The forlome maiden, whom your eies have seene 

The laughing stocke of Fortunes mockeries. 

Am th* onely daughter of a king and queene. 

Whose parents deare (whiles equal destinies 

Did ronne about, and their felicities 

The favourable heavens did not envy,) ^ ^ * 

Did spred their rule through all the territories. 

Which Phison and Euphrates floweth by. 

And Gehons golden waves doe wash continually. 

" Till that their cruell cursed enemy, 

An huge great dragon, horrible in sight, 

Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartary, 

With murdrous ravin e#and devouring might, 

Their kingdome spoild, and countrey wasted quight, 

Themselves, for feare into his iawes to fall, 

He forst to castle strong to take their flight ; 

Where, fast embard in mighty brasen wall. 

He has them now fowr years besiegd to make them thraJi, 



72 THE FAEEIE QUEENS. 

" Full many kniglits, adyenturotis and stout. 

Have enterpriz'd, tliat monster to sub dew : 

From every coast, tliat lieaven walks about. 

Have thither come the noble martial crew. 

That famous harde atehievements still pursew; 

Yet never any could that girlond win, 

!But all still shronke ; and still he greater grew ; 
, All they for want of faith, or guilt of sin, 
' The pitteous pray of his fiers cruelty have bin. 

" At last, yled with far reported praise. 

Which flying Fame throughout the world had spred. 

Of doughty knights, whom Fary land did raise. 

That noble order hight of Maidenhed, 

Forthwith to court of Gloriane I sped. 

Of Gloriane, great queen e of glory bright, 

Whose kingdomes seat Cleopolis is red ; 

There to obtaine some such redoubted knight 

That parents deare from tyrants powre deJiver might. 

*' Yt was my chaunce (my chaunce was faire and good) 

There for to find a fresh unproved knight; 

Whose manly hands imbrewd in guilty blood 

Had never beene, ne ever by his might 

Had throwne to ground the unregarded right: 

Yet of his prowesse proofe he since has made 

(I witnes am) in many a cruell fight; 

The groning ghosts of many one dismaide 

Have felt the bitter dint of his avenging blade. 

" And ye, the forlorne religues of his powre, 

His biting' Sword, and his devouring Speare, 

Which have endured many a dreadfull stowre. 

Can speake his prowesse, that did earst you beare, 

Ajj^d well could rule; now he hath left you heare 

To be the record of his ruefull losse. 

And of my dolefull disaventurous deare: 

O heavie record of the good Eedcrosse, 

Where have ye left your lord, that could so well you tosseP 

** Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had. 

That he my captive languor should redeeme: 

Till aU unweeting an enchaunter bad 

His sence abusd, and made him to misdeeme 

My loyalty, not such as it did seeme, 

That rather death desire then such despight. 

Be judge, ye heavens, that all things right esteeme. 

How I him lov'd, and love with all my mighte ! 

So thought I eke of him, and think I thought aright. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 73 

" Thenceforth me desolate he quite forsooke, 
To wander, where wilde Fortune would me lead. 
And other bywaies he himselfe betooke. 
Where never foote of living wight did tread, 
That brought not backe the balefull body dead; 
In which him chaunced false Duessa meete, 
Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread; 
Who with her witchcraft, and misseeming sweete, 
Inveigled him to follow her desires immeete. 

"At last, by subtile sleights she him betraid 

Unto his foe, a gyaunt huge and tall ; 

Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismaid, 

Unwares surprised, and with mighty mall 

The monster mercilesse him made to fall. 

Whose fall did never foe before behold: 

And now in darkesome dungeon, wretched thrall, 

Bemedilesse, for aie he doth him hold: 

This is my cause of griefe, more great than maybe told." 

Ere she had ended all, she gan to faint : 

But he her comforted, and faire bespake ; 

" Certes, madame, ye have great cause of plaint. 

That stoutest heart, I weene, could cause to quake. 

But be of cheare, and comfort to you take ; 

Por, till I have acquit your captive knight. 

Assure your selfe, I will you not forsake." 

His chearefull words reviv'd her chearelesse spright. 

So fortli they went, the dwarfe them guiding ever right. 



CANTO vin 

Faire virgin, to redeeme her deare. 

Brings Arthure to the fight ; 
Who slayes the gyaunt, wounds the beast* 

And strips Duessa quight. 

Ay me, how many perils doe enfold 

The righteous man, to make him daily fall, 

Were not that heavenly grace doth him uphold, 

And stedfast Truth acquite him out of all ! 

Her love is firme, her care continuall. 

So oft as he, through his own foolish pride 

Or weaknes, is to sinfuU bands made thrall : 

Els should this Eedcrosse knight in bands have dyde, 

Tor wiose deliverance she this prince doth thether guyd. 



74 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

They sadly traveild thus, tiiitill they came, 

'Nigii to a castle builded strong and hye : 

Then cryde the dwarfe, " Lo ! yonder is the same. 

In which my lord, my liege, doth liicklesse ly, 

Thrall to that gyaunts hatefull tyranny: 

Therefore, deare sir, your mighty powres assay,** 

The noble knight alighted by and by 

From loftie steed, and bad the ladie stay, 

To see what end of fight should him befall that day. 

So with his squire, th' admirer of his might. 
He marched forth towardes that castle wall ; 
Whose gates he fownd fast shutt, ne living wight 
To warde the same, nor answere commers call. 
Then tooke that squire an home of bugle small. 
Which hong adowne his side in twisted gold 
And tasselles gay : wyde wonders over all 
Of that same homes great vertues weren told 
Which had approved bene in uses manifold. 

Was never wight that heard that shrilling sownd. 

But trembling feare did feel in every vaine : 

Three miles it might be easy heard arownd. 

And ecchoes three answered it selfe agayne : 

N<9 faulse enchauntment, nor deceitfull traine. 

Might once abide the terror of that blast. 

But presently was voide and wholly vaine : 

]N^o gate so strong, no locke so firme and fast, 

But with that piercing noise flew open quite, or brast. 

The same before the geaunts gate he blew. 

That all the castle quaked from the grownd. 

And every dore of free-will open flew. 

The gyaunt selfe dismaied with that sownd, 

Where he with his Duessa daUiaunce fownd. 

In hast came rushing forth from inner bowre. 

With staring countenance sterne, as one astownd 

And staggering steps, to weet what suddein stowre [powre. 

Had wrought that horror strange, and dar'd bis dreaded 

And after him the proud Duessa came. 
High mounted on her many-headed beast ; 
And every head with fyrie tongue did flame. 
And every head was crowned on his creast. 
And bloody mouthed with late cruell feast. 
That when the knight beheld, his mightie shild 
Upon his manly arme he soone addrest, 
And at him fiersly flew, with corage fild, 
And eger greedinesse through every member thrili 



THE FAEEIB QUEENE 75 

Therewith the gyaunt buckled him to fight, 

Inflamd with scornefull wrath and high disdaine. 

And hfting up his dreadfull club on bight, 

All armd with ragged snubbes and knottie graine. 

Him thought at first encounter to have slaine. 

But wise and wary was that noble pere ; 

And, lightly leaping from so monstrous maine. 

Did fayre avoide the violence him nere ; 

It booted nought to thinke such thunderbolts to beare ; 

'Ne shame he thought to shonne so hideous might : 

The ydle stroke, enforcing furious way. 

Missing the marke of his misaymed sight, 

Did fall to ground, and with his heavie sway 

So deeply dinted in the driven clay. 

That three yardes deepe a furrow up did throw : 

The sad earth, wounded with so sore assay. 

Did grone full grievous underneath the blow ; [siiow. 

And, trembhng with strange feare, did like an erthguake 

As when almightie love, in wrathfull mood, 

To wreake the guilt of mortall sins is bent, 

Hurles forth his thundring dart with deadly food, 

Enrold in flames, and smouldring dreriment. 

Through riven cloudes and molten firmament ; • 

The fiers threeforked engin, making way. 

Both loftie towres and highest trees hath rent, 

And all that might his angry passage stay ; 

And, shooting in the earth, castes up a mount of clay. 

His boystrous club, so buried in the grownd, 

He could not rearen up againe so light. 

But that the knight him at advantage fownd ; 

And, whiles he strove his combred clubbe to quight 

Out of the earth, with blade all burning bright 

He smott off his left arme, which like a block 

Did fall to ground depriv'd of native might ; 

Large streames of blood out of the truncked stock 

Forth gushed, like fresh- water streame from riven rocke. 

Dismayed with so desperate deadly wound, 

And eke impatient of unwonted payne. 

He lowdly brayd with beastly yelling sownd. 

That all the fieldes rebellowed againe : 

As great a noyse as when in Cymbrian plaine, 

An herd of bulles, whom kindly rage doth sting, 

Doe for the milky mothers want complaine. 

And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing : 

The neighbor woodes arownd with hollow murmur ring. 



76 THE PAEBIE QTJEENE. 

TKat wlien Lis deare Duessa heard, and saw 

TJie evil stownd that daung-erd her estate, 

Unto his aide she hastily did draw, 

Her dreadfull beast : who, swolen with blood of late, 

Came ramping forth with proud presumpteous gate. 

And threatned all his heades like flaming brandes. - 

But him the squire made quickly to retrate, 

Encountring fiers with single sword in hand ; 

And twixt him and his lord did like a bulwarke stand. 

The proud Duessa, full of wrathfull spight 

And fiers disdaine, to be affronted so, 

Enforst her purple beast with all her might, 

That stop out of the way to overthroe. 

Scorning the let of so unequall foe : 

But nathemore would that corageous swayne 

To her yeeld passage, gainst his lord to goe ; 

But with outrageous strokes did him restraine, 

And with his body bard the way atwixt them twaine. 

Then tooke the angrie witch her golden cup. 
Which still she bore, replete with magick artes ; 
Death and despeyre did many thereof sup, 
And secret poyson through their inner partes ; 
TIF eternall bale of heavie wounded harts : 
Which, after charmes and some enchauntments said. 
She lightly sprinkled on his weaker partes : 
Therewith his sturdie corage soon was quayd. 
And all his sences were with suddein dread dismayd. 

So downe he fell before the cruell beast, ^ 

Who on his neck his bloody clawes did sieze. 

That life nigh crusht out of his panting brest : 

'No powre he had to stirre, nor will to rize. 

That when the carefull knight gan well avise. 

He lightly left the foe with whom he fought. 

And to the beast gan turne his enterprise ; 

Eor wondrous anguish in his hart it wrought, 

To see his loved squyre into such thraldom brought j 

And, high advauncing his blood-thirstie blade. 
Stroke one of those deformed heades so sore. 
That of his puissance proud ensample made ; 
His monstrous scalpe down to his teeth it tore, 
And that misformed shape misshaped more : 
A sea of blood gusht from the gaping wownd, 
That her gay garments staynd with tilthy gore, 
And overilovYed all the field arownd ; 
That oyer shoes in blood he waded on the grownd. 



THE FAEItlE QUEENE. 77 

Tliereat he rored for exceeding paine. 

That, to have heard, great horror Would have bred ; 

And scourging th' emptie ayre with his long trayne. 

Through great impatience of his grieved hed, 

His gorgeous ryder from her loftie sted 

WoiSd have cast downe, and trodd in durty myre. 

Had not the gyaunt soone her succoured ; 

Who, al enrag'd with smart and frantick yre, 

Came hurtling in full fiers, and forst the knight retyre. 

The force, which wont in two to be disperst, 

In one alone left hand he now unites, 

Which is through rage more strong than both were erst ; 

With which his hideous club aloft he dites. 

And at his foe with furious rigor smites, 

That strongest oake might seeme to overthrow : 

The stroke upon his shield so heavie lites, 

That to the ground it doubleth him full low : — 

What mort^ wight could ever beare so monstrous blow? 

And in his fall his shield, that covered was. 

Did loose his vele by chaunce, and open flew ; 

The light whereof, that hevens light did pas, 

Such blazing brightnesse through the ayer threw, «r 

That eye mote not the same endure to vew. 

Which when the gyaunt spyde with staring eye, 

He downe let fall his arme, and soft withdrew 

His weapon huge, that heaved was on hye 

!For to have slain the man, that on the ground did lye. 

And eke the fruitfull-headed beast, amazd 
At flashing beanies of that sunshiny shield, 
Became stark bhnd, and all his sences dazd. 
That downe he tumbled on the durtie field, 
And seemd himselfe as conquered to yield. 
Whom when his maistresse proud perceiv'd to fall. 
Whiles yet his feeble feet for faintnesse reeld 
Unto the gyaunt lowdly she gan call ; 
" O ! helpe, Orgogho ; helpe, or els we perish all." 

At her so pitteous cry was much amoov'd 

Her champion stout ; and, for to ayde his frend, 

Againe his wonted angry weapon proov'd, 

But all in vaine : for he has redd his end 

In that bright shield, and all their forces spend 

Themselves in vaine : for, since that glauncing sight, 

He hath no powre to hurt, nor to defend. 

As where th* Almighties lightning brond does light, 

It dimmes the dazed eyen, and daunta the sences qaight^ 



78 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Whom when the prince, to batteill new addrest 

And threatning high his dreadfiill stroke, did see. 

His sparkhng blade about his head he blest, 

And smote olf quite his left leg by the knee, 

That downe he tombled ; as an aged tree, 

High growing on the top of rocky clift, 

Whose hart-strings with keene Steele nigh hewen be ; 

The mightie trunck halfe rent with ragged rift 

Doth roil adowne the rocks, and fall with fearefall drift. 

Or as a castle, reared high and round. 

By subtile engins and malitious slight 

Is undermined from the lowest ground, 

And her foundation forst, and feebled quight, 

At last downe falles ; and with her heaped hight 

Her hastie mine does more heavie make. 

And yields it selfe unto the vie tours might : 

Such was this gyaunts fall, that seemd to shake 

The stedfast globe of earth, as it for feare did quake. 

The knight then, lightly leaping to the pray. 
With mortall Steele him smot againe so sore. 
That headless e his unweldy bo die lay. 
All wallowd in his owne fowle bloody gore, 
Which flowed from his wounds in wondrous store. 
But, soone as breath out of his brest did pas. 
That huge great body, which the gyaunt bore. 
Was vanisht quite ; and of that monstrous mas 
Was nothing left, but like an emptie blader was. 

Whose grievous fall when false Duessa spyde. 

Her golden cup she cast unto the ground. 

And crowned mitre rudely threw asyde : 

Such percing griefe her stubborne hart did wound. 

That she could not endure that dolefuU stound ; 

But, leaving all behind her, fled away : 

The light-foot squyer her quickly turnd around. 

And, by hard meanes enforcing her to stay, 

So brought unto his lord, as his deserved pray. 

The roiall virgin which beheld from farre. 

In pensive plight and sad perplexitie, 

The whole atchievement of this doubtfull warre. 

Came running fast to greet his victorie, ^ 

With sober giadnesse and myld mbdestie ; 

And, w^ith sweet ioyous cheare, him thus bespake : 

" Payre braunch of noblesse, flowre of chevalrie. 

That with your worth the world amazed make, 

How shall I quite the paynes, ye sufl'er for my sake ? 



THE faehib queene. 79 

"And you, fresli budd of verttie springing fast, 
Wliom these sad eyes saw nigh unto Deaths dore^ 
What hath poore virgin for such perill past 
Wherewith you to reward ? Accept therefore 
My simple selfe, and service evermore. 
And He that high does sit, and all things see 
With equall eye, their merites to restore, 
Behold what ye this day have done for mee ; 
And, what I cannot quite, requite with usuree ! 

*' But sith the heavens, and your faire handeling. 
Have made you master of the field this day 5 
Your fortune maister eke with governing. 
And, well begonne, end all so well, I pray I 
Ne let that wicked woman scape away ; 
For she it is, that did my lord bethrall. 
My dearest lord, and deepe in dongeon lay ; 
Where he his better dayes hath wasted all : 
O heare, how piteous he to you for ayd does call !" 

Forthwith he gave in charge unto his squyre, 

That scarlet whore to keepen carefully ; 

Whiles he himselfe with g:reedie great desyre 

Into the castle entred forcibly, ^ » 

Where hving creature none he did espye : 

Then gan he loudly through tlie house to call ; 

But no man car'd to answere to his crye : 

There raignd a solemne silence over all ; 

Nor voice was heard nor wight was seene in bowre or hall I 

% 
At last, with creeping crooked pace forth came 
An old old man, with beard as white as snow ; 
That on a staff'e his feeble steps did frame. 
And guyde his wearie gate both too and fro ; 
For his eye -sight him fay led long ygo : 
And on his arme a bounch of keyes he bore. 
The which unused rust did overgrow ; 
Those were the keyes of every inner dore ; 
But he could not them use, but kept them still in store. 

But very uncouth sight was to behold, 
How he did fashion his untoward pace ; 
For as he forward moov'd his footmg old. 
So backward still was turnd his wrincled face s 
Unlike to men, who ever, as they trace, 
Both feet and face one way are wont to lead. 
This was the auncient keeper of that place. 
And foster father of the gyaunt dead ; 
His name Ignaro did his nature right aread. 



80 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

nis reverend lieares and Iioly gravitee 
The knight much honord, as beseemed well | 
And gently askt, where all the people bee, 
Which in that stately building wont to dwell : 
Who answerd him full soft, Se could not tell, 
Again he askt, where that same knight was layd^ 
W^hom great Orgoglio with his piiissaunce fell 
Had made his caytive thrall : againe he sayde, 
J2e couM not tell; ne ever other answere made. 

Then asked he, which way he in might pas : 
S^e could not tell, againe he answered. 
Thereat, the courteous knight displeased was, 
And said'; ** Old syre, it seemes thou hast not red 
How ill it sits with that same silver hed. 
In vaine to mocke, or mockt in vaine to bee : 
But if thou be, as thou art pourtrahed 
With Natures pen, in ages grave degree, 
Aread in graver wise what I demaund of thee.** 

His answere likewise was, Se could not tell. 
Whose senceless speach, and doted ignorance, 
Whenas the noble prince had marked well, 
H^ ghest his nature by his countenance ; 
And calm'd his wrath with goodly temperance. 
Then, to him stepping, from his arme did r cache 
Those keyes, and made himselfe free enterance. 
Each dore he opened without any breach : 
There was no barre to stop, nor foe him to empeaclu 

# 
There all within full rich arayd he found, 
With royall arras, and resplendent gold. 
And did with store of every thing abound. 
That greatest princes presence might behold. 
But all the floore (too filthy to be told) 
With blood of guiltlesse babes, and innocents trow. 
Which there were slaine, as sheepe out of the fold. 
Defiled was ; that dreadful! was to vew ; 
And sacred ashes over it was strewed new. 

And there beside a marble stone was built 

An altare, carv'd with cunning ymagery; 

On which trew Christians blood was often spilt. 

And holy martyres often doen to dye. 

With cruell malice and strong tyranny : 

Whose blessed sprites, from underneath the stone, 

To God for vengeance cryde continually; 

And with great griefe were often heard to grone ; 

That hardest heart would bleede to hear their piteous mone. 



THE FAEEIB QUEENE. 81 

Through every rowme he songlit, and everie bowr. 

But no where could he find that woful thrall. 

At last he came unto an yron doore 

That fast was lockt ; but key found not at all 

JEmongst that bounch to open it withall ; 

But in the same a little grate was pight, 

Through which he sent his voyce, and lowd did call 

With all his powre, to weet if living wight 

Were housed therewithin, whom he enlargen might. 

Therewith an hollow, dreary, murmuring voyce 

These pitteous plaintes and dolours did resound ; 

" O ! who is that, which brings me happy choyce 

Of death, that here lye dying every stound, 

Yet live perforce in balefull darknesse bound? ^ 

!For now three moones have changed thrice their hew. 

And have been thrice hid underneath the ground, 

Since I the heavens chearefull face did vew: 

O welcome, thou, that doest of death bring ty dings trew! 

Which when that champion heard, with percing point 

Of pitty dea-re his hart was thrilled sore ; 

And trembling horrour ran through every ioynt 

For ruth of gentle knight so fowle forlore : • 

Which shaking ofi*, he rent that yron dore 

With furious force and indignation fell ; 

Where entred in, his foot could find no flore. 

But all a deepe descent, as dark as hell, 

That breathed ever forth a filthie baneful smell. 

But neither darkenesse fowle, nor filthy bands, 

'Nor noyous smell, his purpose could withhold 

(Entire affection hateth nicer hands,) 

But that with constant zele and corage bold. 

After long paines and labors manifold, 

He found the meanes that prisoner up to reare ; 

Whose feeble thighes, unable to uphold 

His pined corse, him scarse to light could beare ; 

A rueful! spectacle of death and ghastly drerc. 

His sad dull eies, deepe sunck in hollow pits. 

Could not endure th' unwonted sunne to view; 

His bare thin cheekes for want of better bits, 

And empty sides deceived of their dew. 

Could make a stony hart his hap to rew ; 

His rawbone armes, whose mighty brawned bowrs 

Were wont to rive Steele plates, and helmets hew, 

Were clene consum'd ; and all his vitall powres 

Decayd; and al his flesh shronk up like withered flowres. 



S2 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

Whome when his lady saw, to him she ran 

With hasty ioy : to see him made her glad. 

And sad to view his visage pale and wan ; 

Who earst in ilowres of freshest youth was clad, 

Tho, when her well of teares she wasted Lad, 

She said : "Ah, dearest lord ! what evil starre 

On you hath frownd, and poured his influence bad, 

.That of your selfe ye thus berobbed arre. 

And this misseeming hew your manly lookes doth marre s 

" But welcome now, my lord, in wele or woe. 

Whose presence I have lackt too long a day : 

And fye on Fortune mine avowed foe. 

Whose wrathful wreakes themselves doe now alay; 

And for these wronges shall treble penaunce pay 

Of treble good : good growes of evils priefe." 

The chearlese man, whom sorrow did dismay. 

Had no delight to treaten of his griefe ; 

His long endured famine needed more reliefe. 

"Paire lady," then said that victorious knight, 
*' The things, that grievous were to doe, or beare. 
Them to renew, I wote, breeds no delight ; 
Best musicke breeds delight in loathing eare : 
But th' only good, that growes of passed feare. 
Is to be wise, and ware of like agein. 
This daies ensample hath this lesson deare 
Deepe written in my heart with yron pen. 
That hlisse may not abide in state ofmortall men, 

*' Henceforth, sir knight, take to you wonted strength, 

And maister these mishaps with patient might : 

Loe, where your foe lies stretcht in monstrous length % 

And lo, that wicked woman in your sight, ^ 

The roote of all your care and wretched plight, 

Now in your powre, to let her live, or die.'[ 

" To doe her die," quoth Una, "were despight. 

And shame t'avenge so weake an enimy ; 

But spoile her of her scarlet robe, and let her fly.** 

So, as she bad, that witch they disaraid, 

And robd of roiall robes, and purple pall, 

And ornaments that richly were displaid ; 

Ne spared they to strip her naked all. 

Then, when they had despoyled her tire and call, 

Such, as she was, their eies might her behold, 

That her misshaped parts did them appall ; 

A loathy, wrinckled hag, ill-favoured, old. 

Whose secret filth good manners biddeth not be told. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENS. 83 

Her crafty head was altogether bald. 

And, as in hate of honorable eld, 

Was overgrowne with scurfe and filthy scald ; 

Her teeth out of her rotten gummes were feld. 

And her sowre breath abhominably smeld ; 

Her dried dugs, lyke bladders lacking wind, 

Hong downe, and filthy matter from them weld ; 

Her wrizled skin, as rough as maple rind, 

So scabby was, that would have loathd all womankind. 

Her neather parts, the shame of all her kind, ^ 

My chaster Muse for shame doth blush to write : 

But at her rompe she growing had behind 

A foxes taile, with dong all fpwly dight : ^ 

jLnd eke her feete most monstrous were in sight ; 

For one of them was like an eagles claw, 

With griping talaunts armd to greedy fight ; 

The other like a beares uneven paw : 

More ugly shape yet never living creature saw. 

Which when the knights beheld, amazd they were 

And wondred at so fowle deformed wight. 

'' Such then," said Una, " as she seemeth here. 

Such is the face of Falsehood ; such the sight 

Of fowle Duessa, when her borrowed light 

Is laid away, and counterfesaunce knowne." 

Thus when they had the witch disrobed quight. 

And all her filthy feature open showne, ^ 

They let her goe at will, and wander waies unknowne. 

Shee, flying fast from heavens hated face. 

And from the world that her discovered wide. 

Fled to the wastfull wildernesse apace, 

From living eies her open shame to hide ; 

And lurkt in rocks and caves, long unespide. 

But that faire crew of knights, and Una faire. 

Did in that castle afterwards abide. 

To rest themselves, and weary powres repaire ; 

Where store they fownd of al, that dainty was and rai?e* 



84 THE FAEEIE QUBENB. 



CANTO IX. 

His loves and lignage Arthure tells: 

The knights knitt friendly bands : 
Sir Trevisan flies from Despeyre, 

Whom Kedcros knight withstands. 

O ! GOODLY golden cliayne, wlierewith yfere 

The vertues linked are in lovely wize ; 

And noble mindes of yore allyed were. 

In brave poursuitt of chevalroas emprize. 

That none did otliers safety despize, 

Nor aid envy to him, in need that stands ; 

But friendly each did others praise devize. 

How to advannce with favourable hands, ^ [bands. 

As this good prince redeemd the Eedcrosse knight from 

Who when their powres, empayrd through labor long, 

With dew repast they had recured well. 

And that weake captive wight now wexed strong ; 

Them hst no lenger there at leasure dwell. 

But forward fare, as their adventures feU : 

But, ere they parted, Una faire besought 

That straunger knight his name and nation tell ; 

Least so great good, as he for her had wrought. 

Should die unknown, and buried be in thankles thought. 

"Faire virgin," said the prince, '^yee me require 

A thing without the compas of my witt : 

Por both the lignage, and the certein sire, 

Prom which I sprong, from mee are hidden yitt. 

For all so soone as life did me admitt 

Into this world, and shewed hevens light, 

Prom mother's pap I taken was unfitt. 

And streight delivered to a Pary knight. 

To be upbrought in gentle thewes and martiall might. 

" Unto old Timon he me brought by live ; 
Old Timon, who in youthly yeares hath beene 
In warlike feates th' expertest man alive. 
And is the wisest now on earth I weene : 
His dwelling is, low in a valley greene. 
Under the foot of Eauran mossy hore, 
Prom whence the river Dee, as silver cleene. 
His tombling billowes rolls with gentle rore ; 
There all my dales he traind me up in vertuous lore. 



THE FAEBIE QTTEENE. 85 

" Thether the great magicien Merlin came. 

As was his use, ofttimes to visitt mee ; 

For he had charge my discipline to frame. 

And tutors nouriture to oversee. 

Him oft and oft I askt in privity, ^ ^ 

Of what loines and what hgnage I did spring, 

Whose aunswere bad me still assured bee. 

That I was sonne and heire unto a king, 

As time in her iust term the truth to light should bring." 

" Well, worthy impe," said then the lady gent, 

" And pupil fitt for such a tutors hand ! 

But what adventure, or what high intent, , 

Hath brought you hether into Fary land, 

Aread, Prince Arthure, crowne of martiall band ?*' 

" Full hard it is," quoth he, " to read aright 

The course of heavenly cause, or, understand 

The secret meaning of th' Eternall Might, [wight. 

That rules mens waies, and rules the thoughts of living 

" For whether He, through fatal deepe foresight. 

Me hither sent, for cause to me unghest ; 

Or that fresh bleeding wound, which day and night 

Whilome doth rancle in my riven brest. 

With forced fury following his behest. 

Me hether brought by wayes yet never found ; 

You to have helpt I hold myself yet blest." 

"Ah I courteous knight," quoth she, "what secret wound 

Could ever find to grieve the gentlest hart on ground ?" 

" Deare dame," quoth he, " you sleeping sparkes awake. 

Which, troubled once, into huge flames will grow; 

"Ne ever will their fervent fury slake, 

Till living i^^ioysture into smoke do flow. 

And wasted life doe lye in ashes low. 

Yet sithens silence lesseneth not my fire. 

But, told, it flames ; and, hidden, it does glow; 

I will revele what ye so much desire : 

Ah ! Love, lay down thy bow, the whiles I may respyre. 

" It was in freshest flowre of youthly yeares. 
When corage first does creepe in manly chest; 
Then first that cole of kindly heat appeares 
To kindle love in every living brest : 
But me had warnd old Timons wise behest, 
Those creeping flames by reason to subdew, 
Before their rage grew to so great unrest. 
As miserable lovers used to rew, 

Which stiH wex old in woe, whiles woe 3 till wexeth new» 
5 



86 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

** Tliat ydle name of love, and lovers life, 
As losse of time, and vertues enimy, 
I ever scorn'd, and iojde to stirre up strife, 
In middest of their mournfull tragedy; 
Ay Tvont to langh, when them I heard to cry, 
And blow the fire, which them to ashes brent : 
Their god himselfe, grievd at my libertie, 
Shott many a dart at me with fiers intent ; 
But I them warded all with wary government. 

*' But all in vaine ; no fort can be so strong, 

Ke fleshly brest can armed be so sownd. 

But will at Ij^t be wonne with battrie long, 

Or unawares at disadvantage fownd : 

Nothing is sure that growes on earthly grownd. 

And who most trustes in arme of fleshly might. 

And boastes in beauties chaine not to be bownd, 

Doth soonest fall in disaventrous fight, 

And yeeldes his caytive neck to victours most desi^ight. 

" Ensample make of him your haplesse ioy. 

And of my selfe now mated, as ye see ; 

Whose prouder vaunt that proud avenging boy 

Did soone pluck downe, and curbd my libertee. 

For on a day, prickt forth with iollitee 

Of looser life and heat of hardiment, 

[Raunging the forest wide on courser free. 

The fields, the floods, the heavens, with one consent. 

Did seeme to laugh on me, and favour mine intent. 

*' Forwearied with my sportes, I did alight 
From loftie steed, and downe to sleepe me layd : 
The verdant gras my couch did goodly dight. 
And pillow was my helmett fayre displayd : 
Whiles every sence the humour sweet embay3. 
And slombring soft my hart did steale away. 
Me seemed, by my side a royall mayd 
Her daintie limbes full softly down did lay : 
So fayre a creature yet saw never sunny day. 

** Most goodly glee and lovely blandishment 

She to me made, and badd me love her deare; 

For dearely sure her love was to me bent, 

As, when iust time expired, should appeare. 

But, whether dreames delude, or true it were. 

Was never hart so ravisht with dehght, 

iNe living man like wordes did ever heare, 

As she to me delivered all that night ; 

And at her parting said, she Queene of Faiics hight. 



THE rAEBIE Q;TTEENE. 87 

" WLeii I awoke, and found her place devoyd. 

And nought but pressed gras where she had lyen, 

I sorrowed all so much as earst I ioyd, 

And washed all her place with watry eyen. 

Prom that day forth I lov'd that face divyne 5 

From that day forth I cast in carefull mynd. 

To seek her out with labor and long tyne, 

And never vowd to rest till her I fynd : 

Nyne monethes I seek in vain, yet ni'll that vow unbynd." 

Thus as he spake, his visage wexed pale, 

And chaunge of hew great passion did bewray ; 

Yett still he strove to cloke his inward bale. 

And hide the smoke that did his fire display ; 

Till gentle Una thus to him gan say; 

" O happy Queene of Faries, that hast fownd, 

Mongst many, one that with his prowesse may 

Defend thine honour, and thy foes confownd? 

True loves are often sown, but seldom grow on grownd." 

" Thine, O ! then," said the gentle Eedcrosse knight, 

** Next to that ladies love, shall be the place, 

O fayrest virgin, full of heavenly light, 

Wliose wondrous faith exceeding earthly race, 

Was firmest fixt in myne extremest case. 

And you, my lord, the patrone of my hfe. 

Of that great queene may well gaine worthie grace; 

For onlie worthie you through prowes priefe, 

Yf living man mote worthie be, to be her liefe." 

So diversly discoursing of their loves. 

The golden sunne his glistring head gan shew. 

And sad remembraunce now the prince amoves 

With fresh desire his voyage to pursew: 

Als Una earnd her traveill to renew. 

Then those two knights, fast friendship for to bynd. 

And love estabhsh each to other trew. 

Gave goodly gifts, the signes of gratefull mynd, 

And eke, as pledges firme, right hands together ioynd. 

Prince Arthur gave a boxe of diamond sure, 

Embowd with gold and gorgeous ornament, 

Wherein were closd few drops of liquor pure, 

Of wondrous worth, and vertue excellent. 

That any wownd could heale incontinent. ^ 

Which to requite, the Eedcrosse knight him gare 

A booke, wherein his Saveours Testament 

Was writt with golden letters rich and brave; 

A worke of wondrous grace, and hable soules to save. 



88 THE FAERIE QXTEENE. 

Thus beene they parted ; Artlinr on his way 
To seeke his love, and th* other for to fight 
With Unaes foe, that all her realme did pray. 
But she, now weighing the decayed plight, 
And shrunken synewes of her chosen knight. 
Would not a while her forward course pursew, 
"Ne bring him forth in face of dreadfull fight. 
Till he recovered had his former hew: 
!For hiqa to be yet weake and wearie well she kne^r. 

So as they traveild, lo ! they gan espy 
An armed knight towards them gallop fast. 
That seemed from some feared foe to fly. 
Or other griesly thing, that him aghast. , 
Still, as he fledd, his eye was backward cast. 
As if his feare still followed him behynd : 
Als flew his steed, as he his bandes had brast. 
And with his winged heeles did tread the wynd. 
As he had been a fole of Pegasus his kynd. 

Nigh as he drew, he might perceive his head 
To be unarmd, and curld uncombed heares 
Upstaring stiflTe, dismaid with uncouth dread: 
Nor dro]p of blood in all his face appeares, 
JSTor life in limbe ; and to increase his feares. 
In fowle reproach of knighthoodes fayre degree. 
About his neck an hempen rope he weares. 
That with his ghstring armes does ill agree: 
But he of rope, or armes, has now no memoree. 

The Eedcrosse knight toward him crossed fast. 
To weet what mister wight was so dismay d : 
There him he findes all senceless and aghast. 
That of himselfe he seemd to be afrayd ; 
Whom hardly he from flying forward stayd. 
Till he these wordes to him deliver might ; 
" Sir knight, aread who hath ye thus arayd, 
And eke from whom make ye this hasty flight ? 
Por never knight I saw in such misseeming phght.** 

He answerd nought at all ; but adding new 

Pear to his first amazment, staring wyde 

With stony eyes and hartlesse hollow hew, 

Astonisht stood as one that had aspyde 

Infernall Furies with their chaines untyde. 

Him yett againe, and yett againe, bespake 

The gentle knight : who nought to him replyde ; 

But trembling every ioint did inly quake, 

And foltring tongue at last these words seemd forth to shake : 



THE FAEEIE.QTTEENE. 89 

" For Gods deare love, sir kni^lit, doe me not stay j 

For loe ! he comes, he comes fast after mee ! 

Eft looking back would faine have runne away; 

But he him forst to stay, and tellen free 

The secrete cause of his perplexitie : 

Yet nathemorB by his bold hartie speach 

Could his blood-frosen heart emboldned bee, 

But through his boldnes rather feare did reach ; ^ 

Yett, forst, at last he made through silence suddein breach : 

' "And am I now in safetie sure," quoth he, 
" From him, that would have forced me to dye ? 
And is the point of death now turnd fro mee. 
That I may tell this haplesse history ?" 
" Fear nought," quoth he, " no daunger now is nye,** 
" Then shall I you recoimt a ruefuU cace,'* 
Said he, "the which with this unlucky eye 
I late beheld ; and, had not greater grace 
Me reft from it, had bene partaker of the place. 

" I lately chaunst (would I had never chaunst !) 
With a fayre knight to keepen companee. 
Sir Terwin hight, that well himselfe advaunst 
In all affayres, and was both bold and free; 
But not so happy as mote happy bee : 
He lov'd, as was his lot, a lady gent. 
That him againe lov'd in the least degree ; 
For she was proud, and of too high intent, 
And ioyd to see her lover languish and lament : 

" From whom retourning sad and comfortlesse. 
As on the way together we did fare^ 
We met that villen, (God from him me blesse !) 
That cursed wight, from whom I scapt whyleare, 
A man of hell, that calls himselfe Despayre; 
Who first us greets, and after fayre areedes 
Of tydinges straunge, and of adventures rare : 
So creeping close, as snake in hidden weedes, 
Inquireth of our states, and of our knightly deedes. 

" Which when he knew, and felt our feeble harts 
Embost with bale, and bitter byting griefe. 
Which Love had launched with his deadly darts ; 
With wounding words, and termes of foule repricfe. 
He pluckt from us all hope of dew rcliefe. 
That erst us held in love of lingring life : 
Then hopelesse, hartlesse, gan the cunning thiefo 
Perswade us dye, to stint all further strife 5 
To me he lent this rope, to him a rusty knife : 



90 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

" Witli wMcli sad instrument of hasty deatb, 

Tiiat wofall lover loathing lenger light, 

A wyde way made to let forth living breath. 

But I, more fearfull or more lucky wight. 

Dismay d with that deformed di small sight, 

Pledd faste away, half dead with dying fearej 

ISTe yet assur'd of life by you, sir knight, 

Whose like infirmity lite chaunce may beare : 

But Grod you never let his charmed speaches hears !** 

*' How many a man," said he, ''with idle speach 
Be wonne to spoyle the castle of his health ?" 
*' I wote," quoth he, " whom triall late did teach. 
That like would not for all this worldes wealth. 
His subtile tong, like dropping honny, mealt'h 
Into the heart, and searcheth every vaine ; 
That, ere one be aware, by secret stealth 
His powre is reft and weaknes doth remaine. 
O never, sir, desire to try his guilefull traine !" 

** Certes," sayd he, " hence shall I never rest. 

Till I that treachours art have heard and tryde : 

And you, sir knight, whose name mote I request. 

Of grace do me unto his cabin guyde." 

"I, that hight Trevisan," quoth he, "will ryde. 

Against my Hking, backe to do you grace : 

But not for gold nor glee will I abyde 

By you, when ye arrive in that same place : 

For lever had I die then see his deadly face.** 

Ere long they come, where that same wicked wight 

His dwelling has, low in an hollow cave, 

Far underneath a craggy cliff ypight, 

Darke, dolefuU, dreary, like a greedy grave, 

That still for carrion carcases doth crave : 

On top whereof ay dwelt the ghastly owle. 

Shrieking his balefull note, which ever drave 

Far from that haunt all other chearefuU fowle ; 

And all about it wandring ghostes did wayle and howle t 

And all about old stockes and stubs of trees. 
Whereon nor fruit nor leafe was ever seen. 
Did hang upon tlie ragged rocky knees ; 
On which had many wretches hanged beene. 
Whose carcases were scattred on the greene, 
And throwne about the cliffs. Arrived there, 
That bare-head knight, for dread and dolefull teene. 
Would faine have fled, ne durst aprochen neare ; 
But th' other forst him staye, and comforted in feare. 



THE FAEEIB QTTEENE. 91 

That darksome cave tliey enter, where they find 

That cursed man, low sitting on the ground. 

Musing full sadly in his sullein mind : 

His griesly lockes, long growen and unbound 

Disordred hong about his shoulders round. 

And hid his face ; through which his hollow eyne 

Lookt deadly dull, and stared as astound ; 

His raw-bone cheekes, through penurie and pine. 

Were shronke into his iawes, as he hid never dine. 

His garments, nought but many ragged clouts, 

With thornes together pind and patched was. 

The which his naked sides he wrapt abouts : 

And him beside there lay upon the gras 

A dreary corse whose life away did pas. 

All wallowed in his own yet luke-warme blood. 

That from his wound yet welled fresh, alas ! 

In which a rusty knife fast fixed stood, ^ 

And made an open passage for the gushing flood. 

Which piteous spectacle, approving trew 

The wofuU tale that Trevisan had told, 

Whenas the gentle Eedcrosse knight did vew; 

With fierie zeale he burnt in courage bold 

Him to avenge, before his blood were cold ; 

And to the villein sayd ; " Thou damned wight. 

The authour of this fact we here behold. 

What iustice can but iudge against thee right. 

With thine owne blood to price his blood, here shed in sight?" 

" What franticke fit," quoth he, " hath thus distraught 

Thee, foolish man, so rash a doome to give? 

What iustice ever other iudgement taught. 

But he should dye, who merites not to live? 

I^one els to death this man despajrring drive 

But his owne guiltie mind, deserving death. 

Is then uniust to each his dew to give ? 

Or let him dye, that loatheth living breath? 

Or let him die at ease, that liveth here uneath? 

" Who travailes by the weane wandring way. 

To come unto his wished home in haste. 

And meetes a flood, that doth his passage stay; 

Is not great grace to helpe him over past. 

Or free his feet that in the myre sticke fast ? 

Most envious man, that grieves at neighbours good ; 

And fond, that ioyest in the woe thou hast ; 

Why wilt not let him passe, that long hath stood 

Upon the bancke, yet wilt thy selfe not pas the flood P 



92 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

" He tliere does now enioy eternall rest 

And happy ease, wliicli thou dost want and crave. 

And further from it daily wanderest ; 

What if some little payne the passage have, 

That makes frayle flesh to feare the bitter wave ; 

Is not short payne well borne, that bringes long ease, 

And layes the soule to sleepe in guiet grave ? 

Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas, 

Ease after warre, death after life, does greatly please.*' 

The knight much wondred at his suddeine wit, 

And sayd ; " The terme of life is limited, 

Ne may a man prolong, nor shorten, it : 

The souldier may not move from watchfull sted, 

]N"or leave his stand untill his captaine bed." 

"Who life did limit byAlmightie doome." 

Quoth he, "knowes best the termes established; 

And he, that points the centonell his roome. 

Doth license him depart at sound of morning droome* 

" Is not His deed, what ever thing is donne 

In heaven and earth ? Did not He all create 

To die againe ? All ends, that was begomie : 

Their times in His eternall booke of fate 

Are written sure, and have their certein date. 

Who then can strive with strong necessitie, 

That holds the world in his still chaunging state ; 

Or shunne the death ordaynd by destinie ? 

Wlien houre of death is come, let none aske whence, nor why. 

" The longer life, I wote the greater sin ; 

The greater sin, the greater punishment : 

All those great battels, which thou boasts to win 

Through strife, and blood-shed, and avengement, 

Now praysd, hereafter deare thou shalt repent : 

For life must life, and blood must blood, repay* 

Is not enough thy evill life forespent ? 

Por he that once hath missed the right way. 

The further he doth goe, the further he doth stray. 

" Then doe no further goe, no further stray ; 

Eut here ly downe, and to thy rest betake, 

Th' ill to prevent, that life ensewen may. 

For what hath hfe, that may it loved make. 

And gives not rather cause it to forsake ? 

Feare, sicknesse, age, losse, labour, sorrow, strife, 

Payne, hunger, cold that makes the heart to quake; 

And ever fickle fortune rageth rife ; 

All which, and thousands mo, do make a loathsome life. 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 93 

" Thou, wretched man, of death hast greatest need. 
If in true ballaunce thou wilt wei^h thy state j 
For never knight, that dared warlike deed. 
More luckless disadventures did amate : 
Witnes the dungeon deepe, wherein of late 
Thy life shutt up for death so oft did call ; 
And though good lucke prolonged hath thy date, 
Yet death then would the like mishap forestall, 
Into the which hereafter thou maist happen faU. 

"Why then doest thou, O man of sin, desire 

To draw thy dayes forth to their last degree? 

Is not the measure of thy sinfull hire 

High heaped up with huge iniquitee, 

Against the day of wrath, to burden theeP 

Is not enough, that to his lady mild 

Thou falsed hast thy faith with periuree, 

And sold thyselfe to serve Duessa vild, 

With whom in all abuse thou hast thyselfe defild ? 

" Is not he iust, that all this doth behold 

From highest heven,^ and beares an equall eie P 

Shall he thy sins up in his knowledge fold, 

And guilty be of thiae impietie ? 

Is not his law. Let every sinner die. 

Die shall all flesh ? What then must needs be donne. 

Is it not better to doe willinglie, 

Then linger till the glas be all out ronne ? 

Death is the end of woes : Die soone, O Faries sonne.** 

The knight was much enmoved with his speach. 
That as a swords poynt through his hart did perse. 
And in his conscience made a secrete breach, 
Well knowing trew all that he did reherse. 
And to his fresh remembraunce did reverse 
The ugly vew of his deformed crimes ; 
That ail his manly powres it did disperse. 
As he were charmed with inchaunted rimes ; 
That oftentimes he quakt, and fainted oftentimes. 

In which amazement when the miscreaunt 

Perceived him to waver weake and fraile, 

Whiles trembling ho'^ror did his conscience daunt. 

And hellish anguish did his soule assaUe ; ^ 

To drive him to despaire, and quite to quaile, 

Ilee shewd him painted in a table plaine 

The damned ghosts, that doe in torments waile, ^ 

And thousand fecnds, that doe them' endlesse paino 

With fire and brimstone, which for ever shall remaiue. 



94 THE PAERIE QUEENE. 

The siglit whereof so tlironghly him dismaid. 

That nought but death before his eies he saw. 

And ever burning wrath before him laid, 

By righteous sentence of th* Almighties law. 

Then gan the villein him to overcraw. 

And brought unto him swords, ropes, poison, fire. 

And all that might him to perdition draw ; 

And bad him choose what death he would desire : 

Por death was dew to him, that had provokt Gods ire. 

But, whenas none of them he saw him take, 

He to him raught a dagger sharpe and keene, 

And gave it him in hand : his hand did quake 

And tremble like a leafe of aspin greene, 

And troubled blood through his pale face was seene 

To come and goe, with tidings from the heart. 

As it a ronning messenger had beene. 

At last, resolv'd to work his finall smart, 

He lifted up his Jiand, that backe againe did start. 

Which whenas Una saw, throuo^h every vaine 

The crudied cold ran to her well of life. 

As in a swowne : but, soone relieved againe, 

Out of his hand she snatcht the cursed knife, 

And threw it to the grownd, enraged rife. 

And to him said: "Fie, fie, faint-hearted knight. 

What meanest thou by this reprochfuU strife, 

Is this the battaile, which thou vauntst to fight 

With that fire-mouthed dragon, horrible and bright ? 

** Come ; come away, fraile, feeble, fleshly wight, 

ITe let vaine words bewitch thy manly hart, 

ISTe divelish thoaghts dismay thy constant spright : 

In heavenly mercies hast thou not a part ? 

Why shouldst thouthen despeire, that chosen art? 

Where iustice growes, there grows eke greater grace. 

The which doth quench the brond of hellish smart. 

And that accurst hand- writing doth deface : 

Arise, sir knight ; arise, and leave this cursed place,** 

So up he rose, and thence amounted streight. 
Which when the carle beheld, and saw his guest 
Would safe depart, for all his subtile sleight ; 
He chose an halter from among the rest. 
And with it hong himselfe, unbid, unblest. 
But death he could not worke himselfe thereby | 
For thousand times he so himselfe had drest. 
Yet natheless it could not doe him die. 
Till he should die his last, that is, eternally. 



THB FA^BIE QUEEl^i:, 95 



CANTO X 



Her faithful! knight faire Una brin^ 

To house of Holinesse : 
Where he is taught repentaunce, and 

The way to hevenly blesse. 

What man is Le, tliat boasts of fleshly miglit 

And vaine assurance of mortality, 

Wliicli, all so soone as it doth come to fight 

Against spirituall foes, yields by and by. 

Or from the fielde most cowardly doth fly ! 

Ne let the man ascribe it to his skill. 

That thorough grace hath gained victory : 

If any strength we have, it is to ill ; 

But aU the good is Gods, both power and eke wilL 

By that which lately hapned, Una sarw 
That this her knight was feeble, and too faint ; 
And all his sinewes woxen weake and raw, 
Through long enprisonment, and hard constraint. 
Which he endured in his late restraint. 
That yet he was unfitt for bloody fight. 
Therefore to cherish him with diets daint. 
She cast to bring him, where he chearen mighfc, 
TiU he recovered had his late decayed pHght. 

There was an auncient house not far away, 

Kenowmd throughout the world for sacred lore 

And pure unspotted life : so well, they say, 

It governd was, and guided evermore. 

Through wisedome of a matrone grave and hore ; 

Whose onely ioy was to relieve the needes 

Of wretched soules, and helpe the helpelesse pore: 

AH night she spent in bidding of her bedes. 

And all the day in doing good and godly deedes. 

Dame Cselia, men did her call, as thought 

From heaven to come, or thether to arise ; 

The mother of three daughters well upbrought 

In goodly the we s, and godly exercise : 

The eldest two, most sober, chast, and wise, 

Fidelia and Speranza, virgins were ; 

Though spousd, yet wanting wedlocks solemnize j 

But faire Charissa to a lovely fere 

Was lincked, and by liim had many pledges dere. 



96 THE PAEEIE QUEENE, 

Arrived tliere, tlie dore tliey find fast loclct ; 

[For it -was warely watclied night and day, 

Por feare of many foes ; but, wlien they knockt. 

The porter opened unto them streight way. 

Be was an aged syre, all hory gray, 

"With lookes full lowly cast, and gate full slow, 

Wont on a staffe his feeble steps to stay, 

Hight Humilta. They passe in, stouping low ; 

Por streight and narrow was the way which he did show. 

Each goodly thing is hardest to begin ; 

But, entred in, a spatious court they see, 

Both plaine and pleasaunt to be walked in ; 

"Where them does meete a francklin faire and free. 

And entertaines with comely courteous glee ; 

His name was Zele, that him right well became : 

!For in his speaches and behaviour hee 

Did labour lively to expresse the same. 

And gladly did them guide, till to the hall they came. 

There fayrely them receives a gentle squyre. 

Of mild demeanure and rare courtesee, 

Hight cleanly clad in comely sad attyre ; 

In word and deede that shewd great modestee. 

And knew his good to aU of each degree ; 

Hight Eeverence : he them with speaches^meet 

Does faire entreat; no courting nicetee, 

But simple, trew, and eke unfained sweet, 

As might become a sguyre so great persons to greet. 

And afterwardes them to his dame he leades. 
That aged dame, the lady of the place, 
"Who all this while was busy at her beades ; 
"Which doen, she up arose with seemely grace. 
And toward them full matronely did pace. 
Where, when that fairest Una she beheld. 
Whom well she knew to spring from hevenly race. 
Her heart with ioy imwonted inly sweld, 
As feehng wondrous comfort in her weaker eld: 

And, her embracing, said ; " O happy earth. 

Whereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread ! 

Most vertuous virgin, borne of hevenly berth, 

That, to redeeme thy woefull parents head 

Prom tyrans rage and ever- dying dread. 

Hast wandred through the world now long a day, 

Yett ceassest not thy weary soles to lead ; 

What grace hath thee now hether brought this way? 

Or doen thy feeble feet unweeting hether stray ? 



t 



THE FAERIE QUEEN E. 97 

** Straunge thing it is an errant knight to see 

Here in this place ; or any other wight, 

That hether turnes his steps : so few there bee, 

That chose the narrow path, or seeke the right ! 

All keepe the broad high way, and take dehght 

With many rather for to goe astray. 

And be partakers of their evill phght, 

Then with a few to walke the rightest way : 

O ! foolish men, why hast ye to your own decay?** 

" Thy selfe to see, and tyred limbes to rest, 
O matrone sage," quoth she, " I hether came ; 
And tliis good knight his way with me addrest, 
Ledd with thy prayses, and broad-blazed fame, 
That up to heven is blowne." The auncient damo 
Him. goodly greeted in her modest guyse. 
And enterteynd them both, as best became. 
With all the court' sies that she could devyse, ^ 
Ne wanted ought to shew her bounteous or wise. 

Thus as they gan of sondrie thinges. devise, 

Tioe ! two most goodly virgins came in place, 

Ylinked arme in arme in lovely wise ; 

With countenance demure, and modest grace, 

They numbred even steps and equall pace : 

Of which the eldest, that Fidelia hight. 

Like sunny beames threw from her christall face 

That could have dazd the rash beholders sight. 

And round about her head did shine like hevens light. 

She was araied all in lily white, 

And in her right hand bore a cup of gold, 

With wine and water fild up to the hight. 

In which a serpent did himselfe enfold. 

That horrour made to all that did behold ; 

But she no whitt did chaunge her constant mood : 

And in her other hand she fast did hold 

A booke, that was both signd and seald with blood : 

Wherein darke things were writt, hard to bo understood. 

Her younger sister, that Speranza hight, 

Was clad in blew, that her beseemed well; 

Not all so chearefull seemed she of sight, 

As was her sister ; whether dread did dwell 

Or anguish in her hart, is hard to tell : 

Upon her arme a silver anchor lay. 

Whereon she leaned ever, as befell ; 

And ever up to heven, as she did pray, 

Her stedfast eyes were bent, ue swarved oilier way» 



98 THE FAEKIE QUEENE. 

Tliey, seeing Una, towardes her gan wend, 
Who them encounters with like courtesee; 
Many kind speeches they betweene them spend. 
And greatly ioy each other for to see : 
Then to the knight with shamefast modestie 
They turne themselves, at Unaes meeke request, 
And him salute with well beseeming glee ; 
Who faire them quites, as him beseemed best. 
And goodly gan discourse of many a noble gest. 

Then Una thus ; " But she, your sister deare. 

The deare Charissa, where is she become ? 

Or wants she health, or busie is elswhere ?" 

*' Ah ! no," said they, ** but forth she may not come ; 

Por she of late is lightned of her wombe. 

And hath encreast the world with one sonne more. 

That her to see should be but troublesome." 

*' Indeed," quoth she, " that should her trouble sore 5 

But thankt be God, and her encrease so evermore !" 

Then said the aged Cselia: '* Deare dame. 
And you, good sir, I wote that of youre toyle 
And labors long, through which ye hether came. 
Ye both forwearied be : therefore a whyle 
I read you rest, and to your bowres recoyle." 
Then called she a groome, that forth him ledd 
Into a goodly lodge, and gan despoile 
Of puissant armes, and laid in easie bedd : 
His name was meeke Obedience rightfully aredd. 

Kow when their wearie limbes with kindly rest. 

And bodies were refresht with dew repast, 

Fayre Una gan Fidelia fayre request. 

To have her knight into her schoolehous plaste. 

That of her heavenly learning he might taste. 

And heare the wisedom of her wordes divine. 

She graunted: and that knight so much agraste 

That she him taught celestiall discipline. 

And opened his dull eyes, that light mote in them shine. 

And that her sacred booke, with blood ywritt, 

That none could reade except she did them teach. 

She unto him disclosed every whitt ; 

And heavenly documents thereout did preach. 

That weaker witt of man could never reach ; 

Of God; of Grace; of lustice; of Free-will; 

That wonder was to heare her goodly speach: 

For she was hable with her wordes to kill, 

And rayse againe to life the hart that she did thi'ilL 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. P/9 

And, when she list poure out her larger spright. 

She would coramaund the hasty sunne to stay, 

Or backward turne his course irom hevens hight : 

Sometimes great hostes of men she could dismay; 

Pry-shod to passe she parts the flouds in tway; 

And eke huge mountaines from their native seat 

She would commaund themselves to beare away. 

And throw in raging sea with roaring threat: 

Almightie God her gave such powre and puissaunce great. 

The faithfull knight now grew in little space. 

By hearing her, and by her sisters lore. 

To such perfection of all hevenly grace, 

That wretched world he gan for to abhore. 

And mortall life gan loath as thing forlore, 

Greevd with remembrance of his wicked wayes. 

And prickt with anguish of his sinnes so sore. 

That he desirde to end his wretched dayes : 

So much the dart of sinfull guilt the soule dismayes* 

But wise Speranza gave him comfort sweet. 

And taught him how to take assured hold 

Upon her silver anchor, as was meet; 

Els had his sinnes so great and manifold 

Made him forget all that Fidelia told. 

In this distressed doubtfull agony. 

When him his dearest Una did behold 

Disdeining life, desiring leave to dye. 

She found her selfe assayld with great perplexity; 

And came to Cajliato declare her smart; 

"Who well acquainted with that commune plight. 

Which sinfull horror workes in wounded hart. 

Her wisely comforted all that she might, 

With goodly counsell and advisement right; 

And streightway sent with carefull diligence. 

To fetch a leach, the which had great insight 

In that disease of grieved conscience. 

And well could cure the same; his name was Patient A 

Who, comming to that sowle-diseased knight. 

Could hardly him intreat to tell his grief: 

Which knowne, and all, that noyd his heavie spright> 

Well searcht, eftsoones he gan apply relief 

Of salves and med'cines, which had passing prief ; 

And thereto added wordes of wondrous might : 

By which to ease he him recured brief, 

And much aswag'd the passion of his plight. 

That he his paine endur'd, as seeming now more Lghi, 



100 THE FAEEIE QUEENS, 

But yet tlie cause and root of all liis ill, 

Inward corruption and infected sin, 

Not purg'd nor heald, behind remained still. 

And festring sore did ranckle yett witliin, 

Close creeping twixt tlie marow and the skin: 

"Which to extirpe, he laid him privily ^ 

Downe in a darksome lowly place far in, 

Whereas he meant his corrosives to apply. 

And with streight diet tame his stubborn^ malady. 

In ashes and sackcloth he did array 

His daintie corse, proud humors to abate ; 

And dieted with fasting every day, ^ ^ 

The swelling of his woundes to mitigate ; 

And made him pray both earely and eke late s 

And ever, as superfluous flesh did rott, 

Amendment readie still at hand did wayt 

To pluck it out with pincers fyrie whott 

That soone in him was lefte no one corrupted iott. 

And bitter Penaunce, with an yron whip, 

Was wont him once to disple every day: 

And sharp Hemorse his hart did prick and nip. 

That drops of blood thence hke a well did plays 

And sad Hepentance used to embay 

His body in salt water smarting sore. 

The filthy blottes of sin to wash away. 

So in short space they did to health restore 

The man that would not live, but erst lay at deathes dore. 

In which his torment often was so great, 

That, like a lyon, he would cry and rore ; 

And rend his .flesh; and his own synewes eat. 

His owne deare Una, hearing evermore 

His ruefull shriekes and gronings, often tore 

Her guiltlesse garments and her golden heare, 

Tor pitty of his payne and anguish sore: 

Yet all with patience wisely she did beare ; 

!For well she wist his cryme could els be never cleare. 

Whom, thus recovered by wise Patience 

And trew Bepentaunce, they to Una brought; 

Who, ioyous of his cured conscience, 

Him dearely kist, and fayrely eke besought, 

Himselfe to chearish, and consuming thought 

To put away out of his carefuU brest. 

By this Charissa, late in child-bed brought, 

"Was woxen strong, and left her fruitful! nest : 

To her fayre Una brought this unacquainted guest. 



THE FA^EIE QUEENB. 101 

She was a woman in her freshest age. 
Of wondrous beauty, and of bounty rare. 
With goodly grace and comely personage. 
That was on earth not easie to compare; 
Full of great love; but Cupids wanton snare 
As hell she hated ; chaste in worke and will; 
Her necke and brests were ever open bare,^ 
That ay thereof her babes might sucke their fill; 
The rest was all in yellow robes arayed still. 

A multitude of babes about her hong, 
Playing their sportes, that ioyed her to behold; 
Whom still she fed, whiles they were weake and young. 
But thrust them forth still as they wexed old: 
And on her head she wore a tyre of gold, 
Adornd with gemmes and owches wondrous fayre. 
Whose passing price uneath was to be told : 
And by her syde there sate a gentle payre 
Of turtle doves, she sitting in an yvory chayre. 

The knight and Una entring fayre her greet. 

And bid her ioy of that her happy brood ; 

Who them requites with court'sies seeming meet. 

And entertaynes vdth friendly chearefuU mood. 

Then Una her besought, to be so good 

As in her vertuous rules to schoole, her knight, 

Now after all his torment well withstood 

In that sad house of Penaunce, where his spright 

Had past the paines of hell and long-enduring night. 

She was right ioyous of her iust request ; 

And, taking by the hand that faeries sonne, 

Gan him instruct in everie good behest. 

Of love ; and righteousness ; and well to donne. 

And wrath and hatred warely to shonne, 

That drew on men Gods hatred and his wrath, 

And many soules in dolours had fordonne : 

In which when him she well instructed hath, 

From thence to heaven she teacheth him the ready path. 

, Wherein his weaker wandring steps to guyde, 
An auncient matrone she to her does call. 
Whose sober lookes her wisedom well descryde; 
Her name was Mercy; well knowne over all 
To be both gratious and eke liberall : 
To whom the carefull charge of him she gave. 
To leade aright, that he should never fall 
In all his Wales through this wide worldes wave ; 
That mercy in the end his righteous soule might save. 



102 THE T-AEBIE QtTEENE. 

Tlie godly matrone by the liand Mm beares 

Forth, from her presence, by a narrow way, 

Scattred with bushy thornes and ragged breares. 

Which still before him she remov'd away, 

That nothing might his ready passage stay; 

And ever when his feet encombred were, 

Or gan to shrinke, or from the right to stray. 

She held him fast, and firmely did upbeare ; 

As carefull nourse her child from falling oft does reara 

Estsoones unto an holy hospitaU, 

That was foreby the way, she did him bring ; 

In which seven bead-men, that had vowed all 

Their life to service of high heavens king. 

Did spend their dales in doing godly thing: 

Their gates to aU were open evermore. 

That by the wearie way were travelling ; 

And one sate wayting ever them before. 

To call in commers-by, that needy were and pore. 

The first of them, that eldest was and best. 
Of all the house had charge and governement. 
As guardian and steward of the rest : 
His office was to give entertainement ! 
And lodging unto aU that came and went ; 
Not unto such as could him feast againe. 
And double quite for that he on them spent ; 
But such, as want of harbour did constraine ; ^ 
Those for Gods sake his dewty was to entertaine. 

The second was an almner of the place : 

His office was the hungry for to feed. 

And thirsty give to drinke; a worke of grace: 

He feard not once himselfe to be in need, 

"Ne car'd to hoord for those whom he did breede: 

The grace of God he layd up still in store, 

Which as a stocke he left unto his seede: 

He had enough; what need him care for more? 

And had he lesse, yet some he would give to the pora. 

The third had of their wardrobe custody, 

In which were not rich tyres, nor garnients gay, 

The plumes of pride and winges of vanity, 

But clothes meet to keep keene cold away. 

And naked nature seemely to aray; 

With which bare wretched wights he dayly clad. 

The images of God in earthly clay; 

And if that no spare clothes to give he had. 

His owne cote he would cut, and it distribute glad. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 103 

The fourtli appointed by his office was 

Poore prisoners to relieve with gratious ayd. 

And captives to redeeme with price of bras 

From Turkes and Sarazins, which them had sfcayd; 

And though they faulty were, yet well he wayd, 

That God to us forgiveth every howre 

Much more then that why they in bands were layd; 

And he, that harrowd hell with heavie stowre, 

The faulty soules from thence brought to his heavenly bowre. 

The fift had charge sick persons to attend, 
And comfort those in point of death which lay; 
For them most needeth comfort in the end, 
When Sin, and Hell, and Death, doe most dismay 
The feeble soule departing hence away. 
All is but lost, that living we bestow. 
If not well ended at our dying day. 
O man ! have mind of that last bitter throw; 
For as the tree does fall, so lyes it ever low. 

The sixt had charge of them now being dead, 
In seemely sort their corses to engrave. 
And deck with dainty flowres their brydall bed, 
That to their heavenly Spouse both sweet and brave 
They might ax)peare, when he their soules shall save. 
The wondrous workmanship of Gods owne mould, 
-Whose face he made all beastes to feare, and gave 
All in his hand, even dead we honour should. 
Ah, dearest God, me graunt, I dead be not defould ! 

The seventh, now after death and buriall done. 

Had charge the tender orphans of the dead 

And wydowes ayd, least they should be undone : 

In face of iudgement he their right would plead, 

Ne ought the powre of mighty men did dread 

In their defence ; nor would for gold or fee 

Be wonne their rightfull causes downe to tread : 

And, when they stood in most necessitee. 

He did supply their want, and gave them ever free. 

There when the elfin knight arrived was. 
The first and chiefest of the seven, whose care 
Was guests to welcome, towardes him did pas : 
Where seeing Mercie, that his steps upbare 
And alwaies led, to her with reverence rare 
He humbly louted in meeke lowlinesse. 
And seemely welcome for her did prepare : 
For of their order she was patronesse, 
Albe Charissa were their chiefest founderesso. 



104 THE PAEEIE QTTEENE, 

There slie awliile him stayes, liimselfe to rest. 

That to the rest more hable he might bee: 

During which time, in every good behest. 

And godly worke of almes and charitee, 

Shee him instructed with great industree. 

Shortly therein so perfect he became. 

That, from the first imto the last degree, 

His mortall life he learned had to frame 

In holy righteousnesse, without rebuke or blame. 

Thence forward by that painfull way they pas 
Porth to an hill, that was both steepe and hys 
On- top whereof a sacred chapel was. 
And eke a httle hermitage thereby. 
Wherein an aged holy man did he. 
That day and night said his devotion, 
JSTe other worldly busines did apply : 
His name was Hevenly Contemplation ; 
Of God and goodness, was his meditation. 

Great grace that old man to him given had; 
For God he often saw from heavens hight : 
All were his earthly eien both blunt and bad, _ 
And through great age had lost their kindly sight, 
Yet wondrous quick and persaunt was his spright, 
As eagles eie, that can behold the sunne. 
That hill they scale with all their powre and might. 
That his fraile tlnghes, nigh weary and fordonne, 
Gan faile; but, by her helpe, the top at last he wonneb 

Tliere they doe finde that godly aged sire. 
With snowy lockes adowne his shoulders shed ; 
As hoary frost with spangles doth attire 
The mossy braunches of an oake halfe ded. 
Each bone might through his body weU be red. 
And every sinew scene, through his long fast : 
Por nought he car'd his carcas long unfed ; 
His mind was full of spirituall repast, 
And pyn'd his flesh to keep his body low and chast* 

Who, when these two approaching he aspide. 

At their first presence grew agrieved sore, ^ 

That forst him lay his hevenly thoughts aside ; 

And had he not that dame respected more, 

AVhom highly he did reverence and adore, 

He would not once have moved for the knight. 

They him saluted, standing far afore ; 

Who, well them greeting, humbly did requight. 

And asked, to wlmt end they clomb that tecUoTis hight? 



THE FAEEIB QTTEENE. 105 

" What end," quoth she, " should cause us take such pame, 

But that same end, which every living wight 

Should make his marke, high heaven to attaine ? 

Is not from hence the way, that leadeth right 

To that most glorious house, that glistreth bright 

With burning starres and overliving fire. 

Whereof the keies are to thy hand behight 

By wise Pidelia ? She doth thee require. 

To shew it to this knight, according his desire.** 

** Thrise happy man," said then the father grave, 

** Whose staggering steps thy steady hand doth lead. 

And shewes the way his sinfuU soule to save ! 

Who better can the way to heaven aread 

Then thou thy self e, that was both borne, and bred 

In hevenly throne, where thousand angels shine ? 

Thou doest the praiers of the righteous sead 

Present before the Majesty Divine, 

And his avenging wrath to clemency incline. 

*' Yet, since thou bidst, thy pleasure shal be donno. 

Then come, thou man of earth, and see the way, 

That never yet was scene of Faries sonne; 

That never leads the traveiler astray. 

But, after labors long and sad delay, 

Brings them to ioyous rest and endless e blis. 

But first thou must a season fast and pray, 

Till from her bands the spright assoiled is, 

And have her strength recur'd from fraile infirmitis.** 

That done, he leads him to the highest mount; 

Such one, as that same mighty man of God, 

That blood- red billowes hke a walled front 

On either side disparted with his rod, 

Till that his army dry-foot through them yod, 

Dwelt forty dales upon ; where, writt in stone 

With bloody letters by the hand of God, 

The bitter doome of death and balefull mone 

He did receive, whiles flashing fire about him shone t 

Or like that sacred hill, whose head full hie, 

Adornd with fruitfull olives all arownd. 

Is, as it were for endlesse memory 

Of that deare Lord who oft thereon was fownd. 

For ever with a flo wring girlond crownd: 

Or like that pleasaunt mount, that is for ay 

Through famous poets verse each where renownd. 

On which the thrise three learned ladies play 

Their hevenly notes, and make fidl many a lovely lay. 



106 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

From tlience, far off he unto him did shew 

A little path, that was both steepe and long, 

Which to a goodly citty led his vew; 

Whose wals and towres were builded high and strong 

Of perle and precious stone, that earthly tong 

Cannot describe, nor wit of man can tell; 

Too high a ditty for my simple song ! 

The citty of the Greate King hight it well, 

W^herein eternall peace and happinesse doth dwell. 

As he thereon stood gazing, he might see 

The blessed Angels to and fro descend 

!From highest heven in gladsome companee. 

And with great ioy into that citty wend, 

As commonly as frend does with his frend. 

Whereat he wondred much, and gan enquere. 

What stately building durst so high extend 

Her lofty towres unto the starry sphere. 

And what unknowen nation there empeopled were. 

" Eaire knight,'* quoth he, " Hierusalem that is. 

The New Hierusalem, that God has built 

For those to dvrell in, that are chosen his, 

His chosen people purg'd from sinful guilt 

With pretious blood, which cruelly was spilt 

On cursed tree, of that unspotted Lam, 

That for the sinnes of al the world was kilt : 

Now are they saints all in that citty sam, 

More dear unto their God than younglings to their dam.** 

" Till now," said then the knight, *' I weened well. 

That great Cleopolis where I have beene. 

In which that fairest Fary Queene doth dwell, 

The fairest citty was that might be scene ; 

And that bright towre, all built of christall clene, 

Panthea, seemd the brightest thing that was : 

But now by proofe all otherwise I weene ; 

For this great citty that does far surpas, [g1as.*' 

And this bright Angels towre quite dims that towre of 

" Most trew," then said the holy aged man; 

" Yet is Cleopolis, for earthly frame. 

The fairest i)eece that eie beholden can ; 

And well beseemos all knights of noble name. 

That covett in th' immortall booke of fame 

To be eternized, that same to haunt, 

And doen their service to that soveraigne dame, 

That glory does to them for guerdon graunt : 

For she is hevenly borne, and heaven may iustly vaunt. 



THE PAEEIE QTJEENE. 107 

••And tliou, faire ymp, sprong out from English race, 

How ever now accompted ElHns sonne, 

Well worthy doest thy service for her grace, 

To aide a virgin desolate fordonne. 

But when thou famous victory hast wonne, 

And high emongst all knights hast hong thy shield. 

Thenceforth the suitt of earthly conquest slioune,; 

And wash thy hands from guilt of bloody field : 

For blood can nought but sin, and wars but sorrows yield. 

** Then seek this path that I to thee presage, 

"WTiich after all to heaven shall thee send ; 

Then peaceably thy painefull pilgrimage 

To yonder same Hierusalem doe bend. 

Where is for thee ordaind a blessed end : 

For thou emongst those saints, whom thou doest sea 

Shall be a saint, and thine owne nations freud 

And patrone : thou Saint George shalt called bee, 

Saint George of mery JSngland, the signe of victorce.'* 

" Unworthy wretch," quoth he, " of so great grace. 

How dare I thinke such glory to attain e !" 

** These, that have it attaynd, were in like cace," 

Quoth he, " as wretched, and liv'd in like paine." 

" But deeds of armes must I at last be faine 

And ladies love to leave, so dearely bought ?" 

" What need of armes, where peace doth ay remaine. 

Said he, **and battailes none are to be fought? 

As for loose loves, they'are vaine, and vanish into nought." 

" O let me not,'* quoth he, "then turne againe 

Backe to the world, whose ioyes so fruitlesse are; 

But let me here for aie in peace remaine. 

Or streightway on that last long voiage fare, 

That nothing may my present hope empare." 

" That may not be," said he, "ne maist thou yitt 

Forgoe that royal maides bequeathed care. 

Who did her cause into thy hand committ, 

Till from her cursed foe thou have her freely quitt." 

" Then shall I soone," quoth he, " so God me grace, 

Abett that virgins cause disconsolate, 

And shortly back returne unto this place. 

To walke this way in pilgrims poore estate. 

But now aread, old father, why of late 

Didst thou behight me borne of English blood. 

Whom all a Faeries sonne doen nominate ?'* 

" That word shaU I," said he, " avounchen good, 

Sith to thee is unknowne the cradle of thy brood. 



lOS THE PAERIE QUEENE. 

" Por well I wote tliou springst from ancient race 

Of Saxon kinges, that have with mightie hand, 

And many bloody battailes fought in place, 

High reard their royall throne in Britano land, 

And vanguisht them, unable to withstand : 

From thence a Faery thee unweeting reft. 

There as thou slepst in tender swadling band, 

And her base Elfin brood there for thee left : 

Such, men do chaungelings call, so cbaung'd by Faeries theft. 

" Thence she thee brought into this Faery lond. 

And in an heaped furrow did thee hyde ; 

Where thee a ploughman all unweeting fond. 

As he is to^desome teme that way did guyde. 

And brought thee up in ploughmans state to byde, 

AYliereof G-eorgos he thee gave to name; 

Till prickt with courage, and thy forces pryde. 

To Fary court thou cam'st to seek for fame. 

And prove thy puissant armes, as seemes thee best became.** 

" O holy sire," quoth he, " how shall I quight 

The many favours I with thee have fownd, 

That hast my name and nation redd aright. 

And taught the way that does to heaven bownd 1" 

This saide, adowne he looked to the grownd 

To have returnd, but dazed were his eyne 

Through passing brightnes, w^hich did quite confound 

His feeble sence, and too exceeding shyne. ^ 

So darke are earthly thinges compard to things divine ! 

At last, whenas himselfe he gan to fynd, 

To Una back he cast him to retyre; 

Who him awaited still with pensive mynd. 

Great thankes, and goodly meed, to that good syre 

He thens departing gave for his pajnies hyre. 

So came to Una, who him ioyd to see ; 

And, after httle rest, gan him desjnre 

Of her adventure myndfull for to bee. 

So leave they take of Cseha and lier daughters three* 



THE FAEBIS QTTEEinB. 



CANTO XL 

The knight with that old dragon fights 

Two dayes incessantly : 
The third, him overthrowes ; and gayns 

Most glorious victory. 

High time now gan it wex for Una fayre 

To tliinke of those her captive parents deare. 

And their forwasted kingdom to repayre: 

Whereto whenas they now approched neare, 

With hartie wordes her knight she gan to cheare. 

And in her modest manner thus bespake ; 

" Deare knight, as deare as ever knight was dearc. 

That all these sorrows suffer for my sake, 

High heven behold the tedious toyle, ye for me take ! 

" JN'ow are we come unto my native soyle. 

And to the place where all our perilles dwell; 

Here hauntes that feend, and does his daily spoyle; 

Therefore henceforth bee at your keeping well. 

And ever ready for your foeman fell : 

The spark of noble corage now awake, 

And strive your excellent selfe to excell : 

That shall ye evermore renowmed make 

Above all knights on earth, that batteill undertake." 

And pointing forth, " Lo ! yonder is," said she, 

** The brasen towre, in which my parents deare 

For dread of that huge feend emprisond be; 

Whom I from far see on the walls appeare. 

Whose sight my feeble soule doth greatly cheare ; 

And on the top of all I do espye 

The watchman wayting tydings glad to Leare, 

That, O my parents, might I happily 

Unto you bring, to ease you of your misery !*" 

With that they heard a roaring hideous sownd. 
That all the ayre with terror filled wyde. 
And seemd uneath to shake the stedfast ground. 
Eftsoones that dreadful dragon they espyde. 
Where stretcht he lay upon the sunny side 
Of a great hill, himselfe like a great hill : 
But, all so soone as he from far descryde 
Those glistring amies that heven with light did fill. 
He rousd liimselfe full blyth, and hastned them un till. 
6 



110 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

Then badd the knight his lady yede aloof. 

And to an hill herselfe withdraw asyde : 

From whence she might behold that battailles proof. 

And eke be safe from daunger far descry de; 

She him obayd, and turnd a little wyde. — 

Now, O thou sacred Muse, most learned dame, 

Fayre ympe of Phoebus and his aged bryde, 

The nourse of time and everlasting fame, 

That warlike handes ennoblest with immortall namej 

O, gently come into my feeble brest, 

Come gently; but not with that mightie rage, 

"Wherewith the martiall troupes thou doest infest. 

And hartes of great heroes doest enrage. 

That nought their kindled corage may aswage: 

Soone as thy dreadfull trompe begins to sownd. 

The god of warre with his fiers equipage 

Thou doest awake, sleepe never he so sownd; 

And scared nations doest with horror sterne astowncL 

Fayre goddesse, lay that farious fitt asyde. 
Till I of warres and bloody Mars doe sing, 
And Bryton fieldes with Sarazin blood bedyde, 
Twixt that great Faery Queene, and Paynim king. 
That with their horror heven and earth did ring j 
A worke of labour long and endlesse prayse : 
But now a while lett downe that haughtie string 
And to my tunes thy second tenor rayse. 
That I this man of Grod his godly armes may blaze. 

By this, the dreadful beast drew nigh to hand, 

Halfe flying and halfe footing in his haste. 

That with his largenesse measured much land. 

And made wide shadow under his huge waste; 

As mountaine doth the valley overcaste. 

Approching nigh, he reared high afore 

His body monstrous, horrible, and vaste; 

Which, to increase his wondrous greatnes more. 

Was swoln with wrath and poyson, and with bloody gore; 

And over all with brazen scales was armd. 

Like plated cote of Steele, so couched neare 

That nought mote perce; ne might his corse be harmd 

With dint of swerd, nor push of pointed speare: 

WTiich, as an eagle, seeing pray appeare, 

His aery plumes doth rouze full rudely dight; 

So shaked he, that horror was to heare : 

For, as the clashing of an armor bright, 

Such noyse his rouzed scales did send unto the knighfc 



THE PAEEIE QTTEENE. Ill 

His flaggy winges, when fortli he did display, 
Were like two sayles, in which the hollow wynd 
Is gathered full, and worketh speedy wny: 
And eke the pennes, that did his pineons bynd, 
Were like mayne-yardes with flying canvas Ij^nd; 
With which whenas him hst the ayre to beat, 
And there by force unwonted passage fynd, 
The cloudes before him fledd for terror great, 
And all the hevens stood still amazed with his threat. 

His huge long tayle, wownd up in hundred foldes, 

Does overspred his long bras-scaly back. 

Whose wreathed boughtes when ever he un foldes. 

And thick-entangled knots adown does slack, 

Bespotted as with shieldes of red and blacke, 

It sweepeth all the land behind him farre. 

And of three furlongs does but litle lacke ; 

And at the point two stinges infixed arre. 

Both deadly sharp, that sharpest Steele exceeden farre. 

But stinges and sharpest Steele did far exceed 
The sharpnesse of his cruell rending clawes : 
Dead was it sure, as sure as death indeed, 
What ever thing does touch his ravenous pawes. 
Or what within his reach he ever drawes. 
But his most hideous head my tongue to tell 
Does tremble ; for his deepe devouring iawes 
Wyde gaped, like the griesly mouth of hell, 
Tliough which into his darke abysse all ravin fell. 

And, that more wondrous was, in either iaw 

Three ranckes of yron teeth enraunged were. 

In which yett trickhng blood, and gobbets raw. 

Of late devoured bodies did appeare; 

That sight thereof bredd cold congealed feare: 

Which to increase, and all at once to kill, 

A cloud of smoothering smoke, and sulphure scare, 

Ont of his stinking gorge forth s teemed still. 

That all the ayre about with smoke and stench did fill. 

His blazing eyes, like two bright shining shieldes. 

Did burne with wrath, and sparkled living fyre: 

As two broad beacons, sett in open fieldes. 

Send forth their flames far ofl'to every shy re, 

And warning give, that enemies conspyre 

With fire and sword the region to invade ; 

So flam'd his eyne with rage and rancorous >Te: 

But far within, as in a hollow glade, 

Those glaring lampes were sett, that made a dread full shades 



112 THE FAEEIE QTTEENB^ 

So dreadfully lie towardes Mm did pas, 

Porelifting up aloft his speckled brest, 

And often bounding on the brused gras. 

As for great ioyance of his new come guest. 

Efcsoones he gan advance his haughty crest; 

As chauffed bore his bristles doth upreare ; 

And shoke his scales to battaile ready drest, 

(That made the Redcrosse knight nigh quake for feare,) 

As bidding bold defyaunce to his foeman neare. 

The knight gan fa^Tely couch his steady speare. 

And fiersly ran at him with rigorous might : 

The pointed Steele, arriving rudely theare,_ 

His harder hyde would nether perce nor bight. 

But, glauncing by, foorth passed forward right: 

Yet, sore amoved with so puissaunt push, 

The wrathfull beast about him turned lifeht,' 

And him so rudely, passing by, did brush 

With his long tayle, that horse and man to ground did rusli. 

Both horse and man up lightly rose againe. 

And fresh encounter towardes him addrest; 

But th* ydle stroke yet backe recoyld in vaine. 

And found no place his deadly point to rest. 

Exceeding rage enflam'd the ifurious beast. 

To be avenged of so great despight ; 

Eor never felt his imperceable brest 

So wondrous force from hand of living wight: 

Yet had he prov'd the powre of many a puissant knight. 

Then, with his waving wings displayed wyde, 

Himselfe up high he lifted from the ground. 

And with strong flight did forcibly divyde 

The yielding ajTe, which nigh too feeble found 

Her flitting parts, and element unsound. 

To beare so great a weight: He, cutting way 

With his broad sayles, about him soared round ; 

At last, low stouping with unweldy sway, 

Snatcht up both horse and man, to beare them quite awny. 

Long he them bore above the subject plaine. 

So far as ewghen bow a shaft may send ; 

Till struggling strong did him at last constraino 

To let them downe before his flightes end : 

As hagard hauke, presuming to contend 

With hardy fowle above his hable might. 

His wearie pounces all in vaine doth spend 

To trusse the pray too heavy for his flight; 

Which comming down to ground, does free itsclfe by G.g]it 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENE, 113 

lie SO disseized of his grypinp^ grosse. 

The knight his thrillant speare again assay d 

In his bras-plated body to embosse. 

And three mens strength unto the stroaTce ho laydj 

Wherewith the stiffe beame quaked, as affrayd. 

And glauncing from his scaly necke did glyde 

Close under his left wing, then broad displayd : 

The percing Steele there wrought a wownd full wyde, 

That with the uncouth smart the monster lowdly cryde. 

He cryde, as raging seas are wont to rore. 

When wintry storme his wrathful wreck does threat; 

The rolling billowes beate the ragged shore, 

As they the earth would shoulder from her seat; 

And greedy gulfe does gape, as he would eat 

His neighbour elenient in his revenge : 

Then gin the blustring brethren boldly threat 

To move the world from off his stedfast henge. 

And boystrous battaile make, each other to avcngo. 

The steely head stuck fast still in his flesh 

Till with his cruell clawes he snatcht the wood, 

And quite asunder broke: forth flowed fresh 

A gushing river of blacke gory blood, 

That drowned all the land, whereon he stood ; 

The streame thereof would drive a water-mill: 

Trebly augmented was his furious mood 

With bitter sence of his deepe-rooted iU, 

That flames of fire he threw forth from his large nosethrilL 

His hideous tayle then hurled he about, 
And therewith aH enwrapt the nimble thyes 
Of his froth-fomy steed, whose courage stout 
Striving to loose the knot that fast him tyes, 
Himselfe in streighter bandes too rash implyes. 
That to the ground he is perforce constraynd 
To throw his ryder; who can quickly ryse 
Prom off the earth, with durty blood distaynd, 
For that reprochfull fall right fowly he disdaynd? 

And fercely tooke his trenehard blade in hand, 

With which he stroke so furious and so fell, 

That nothing seemd the puissaunco could withstand 

Upon his crest the hardned yron feU ; 

But his more hardned crest was armd so well, 

That deeper dint therein it would not make; 

Yet so extremely did the buffe him qiiiell. 

That from thenceforth he shund the like to take 

But, when he saw them come, he did them still forsake. 



114 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

The kniglit was wroth to see his stroke beguyld. 
And smot againe with more outrageous might j 
But backe againe the sparcling Steele recoyld. 
And left not any marke where it did light. 
As if in adamant rocke it had beene pight. 
The beast, impatient of his smarting wound. 
And of so fierce and forcible despight, 
Thought with his winges to stye alcove the ground j 
But his late wounded wing unserviceable found. 

Then, full of grief and anguish vehement, 

He lowdly brayd, that like was never heard; 

And from his wide devouring oven sent 

A flake of fire, that, flashing in his beard. 

Him all amazd, and almost made afeard : 

The scorching flame sore swinged all his face. 

And through his armour all his body seard. 

That he could not endure so cruell cace, 

But thought his armes to leave, and hehnet to unlace, 

ISTot that great champion of the antique world. 
Whom famous poetes verse so much doth vaunt. 
And hath for twelve huge labours high extold, 
So many furies and sharpe fits did haunt. 
When him the poysond garment did enchaunt. 
With Centaures blood and bloody verses charmd ; 
As did this knight twelve thousand dolours daunt, 
Whom fyrie Steele now burnt, that erst him armd ; 
That erst him goodly armd, now most of all him harmd. 

Faynt, wearie, sore, emboyled, grieved, brent. 

With heat, toyle, wounds, armes, smart, and inward fire, 

That never man such mischiefes did torment ; 

Death better were; death did he oft desire; 

But death will never come, when needes require. 

Whom so dismayd when that his foe beheld. 

He cast to suffer him no more respire. 

But gan his sturdy sterne about to weld. 

And him so strongly stroke, that to the ground him fold. 

It fortuned, (as fayre it then befell,) 
Behynd his backe, unweeting where he stood. 
Of auncient time there was a springing well, 
From which fast trickled forth a silver flood. 
Full of great vertues, and for med'cine good : 
Whylome, before that cursed dragon got 
That happy land, and*ll with innocent blood 
Defyld those sacred waves, it rightly hot 
The Well of Life; ne yet his vertues had forgot: 



THE FAEBIB QTTEENE. 115 

Por unto life the dead it could restore. 

And guilt of sinfull crimes cleane wash away; 

Those, that with sicknesse were infected sore. 

It could recure ; and aged long decay 

Renew, as one were born that very day. 

Both Silo this, and lordan, did excell, 

And th* English Bath, and eke the German Spau; 

ITe can Cephise, nor Hebrus, match this well : 

Into the same tlae knight back overthrowen fell,- 

Now gan the golden Phoebus for to steep© 

His fierie face in billowes of the west. 

And his faint steedes watred in ocean deepe, 

"Whiles froni their iournall labours they did resti 

When that infernall monster, having kest 

His wearie foe into that living well, 

Can high advaunce his broad discoloured brest 

Above his wonted pitch, with countenance fell. 

And clapt his yron wings, as victor he did dwell. 

Which when his pensive lady saw from farre. 

Great woe and sorrow did her soule assay. 

As weening that the sad end^ of the warre; 

And gan to highest God entirely pray 

That feared chaunce from her to turne away: 

With folded hands, and knees full lowly bent. 

All night she watcht; ne once adowne woidd lay 

Her dainty limbs in her sad dreriment, 

But praying still did wake, and waki*ig did lament. 

The morrow next gan early to appeare. 
That Titan rose to runne his daily race; 
But earely, ere the morrow next gan rear© 
Out of the sea faire Titans deawy face. 
Up rose the gentle virgin from her place. 
And looked all about, if she might spy 
Her loved knight to move his manly pacet 
Por she had great doubt of his safety. 
Since late she saw him fall before his enimy. 

At last she saw, where he upstarted brave 

Out of the well wherein he drenched lay: 

As eagle, fresh out of the ocean wave. 

Where he hath lefte his plumes all hory gray^^ 

And deckt himselfe with fethers youthljr gay. 

Like eyas hauke up mounts unto the skies, 

His newly-budded pineons to assay. 

And marveiles at himselfe, stil as he flies: 

So new this new-borne knight to battell new did ria0# 



11(5 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

Wliom vtien tlie damned feend so fresh did spy, 
No wonder if he wondred at the sight, 
And doubted whether his late enimy 
It were, or other new supplied knight. 
He now, to prove his late-renewed might, 
High brandishing his bright deaw-burning blades 
Upon his crested scalp so sore did smite. 
That to the scull a yawning wound it made: 
The deadly dint his dulled sences all dismaid. 

I wote not, whether the revenging Steele 

Were hardned with thB,t holy water dew 

Wherein he fell ; or sharper edge did feele; 

Or his baptized hands now greater grew; 

Or other secret vertue did ensew ; 

Els never could the force of fleshly arme, 

Ne molten mettall, in his blood embrew : 

Por, till that stownd, could never wight him harme 

By subtilty, nor slight, nor might, nor mighty charme. 

The cruell wound enraged him so sore. 

That loud he yelled for exceeding paine; 

As hundred ramping Hons seemd to rore. 

Whom ravenous hunger did thereto constraine. 

Then gan he tosse aloft his stretched traine, 

And therewith scourge the buxome aire so sore. 

That to his force to yielden it was faine; 

l^e ought his sturdy strokes might stand afore. 

That high trees overthrew, and rocks in peeces tore: 

The same advauncing high above his head. 

With sharpe intended sting so rude him smott. 

That to the earth him drove, as stricken dead ; 

"Ne living wight would have him life behott : 

The mortall sting his angry needle shott 

Quite through his shield, and in liis shoulder seasd. 

Where fast it stucke, ne would thereout be gott : 

The griefe thereof him wondrous sore diseasd, 

Ne might his rancling paine with patience be appeasd. 

But yet, more mindfull of his honour deare 

Then of the grievous smart which him did wring, 

Prom loathed soile he can him hghtly reare, 

And strove to loose the far infixed sting: 

Which when in vaine he tryde with struggeling, 

Inflam'd with wrath, his raging blade he hefte. 

And strooke so strongly, that the knotty string 

Of his huge taile he quite asonder clefte; 

Pive ioints thereof he hcwd, and but the stump him lefte. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 117 

ITart cannot tliinlce, wliat outrage and what cries, 

Witli fowle enfouldred smoake and flashing Are, 

The hell-bred beast threw forth unto the skies. 

That all was covered with darknesse dire ; 

Then fraught with rancour, and engorged yre. 

Ho cast at once him to avenge for all ; 

And, gathering up himselfe out of the mire 

With his uneven wings, did fiercely fall: 

Upon his sunne-bright shield, and grypt it fast withal]. 

Much was the man encombred with his hold, ^ 

In feare to lose his weapon in his paw, 

Ne wist yett, how his talaunts to unfold ; 

Nor harder was from Cerberus greedy iaw 

To plucke a bone, then from his cruell claw 

To reave by strength the griped gage away : 

Thrise he assayd it from his foote to draw, 

And thrise in vaine to draw it did assay ; 

It booted nought to tliinke to robbe hun of his pray, 

Tho, when he saw no power niight prevaile, 
His trusty sword he cald to his last aid. 
Wherewith he fiersly did his foe assaile, 
And double blowes about him stoutly laid, 
That glauncing fire out of the yron plaid; 
As sparckles from the andvile use to fly, 
When heavy hammers on the wedg are swaid ; 
Therewith at last he forst him to unty 
One of his grasping feete, him to defend thereby. 

The other foote, fast fixed on his shield, 

Whenas no strengtli nor stroks mote him constraino 

To loose, ne yet the warlike pledg to yield ; 

lie smott thereat with all his might and maine. 

That nought so wondrous puissaunce might sustaine; 

Upon the ioint the lucky Steele did light. 

And made such way, that hewd it quite in twaine ; 

The paw yett missed not his minisht might, 

But hong still on the shield, as it at first was pight. 

For griefe thereof and divelish despight, 

From his infernall fournace fourth he threw, 

Huge flames, that dimmed all tho hcvcns light, 

Enrold in duskish smoke and brimstone blew : 

As burning Aetna from his boyling stevv^ 

Doth belch out flames, and rockes in peaces broke, 

-And ragged ribs of mountaines molten new, 

Enwrapt in coleblackc clowds and filthy smoke, 

That al the land with stench, and hcycu with horror clioko. 



118 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

The lieate whereof, and harmefuU pestilence. 

So sore him noyd, that forst him to retire 

A little backeward for his best defence, 

To save his body from the scorching fire, 

Which he from helhsh entraiies did expire. 

It chaunst, (Eternall God that chaunce did guide,) 

As he recoiled backeward, in the mire 

His nigh forwearied feeble feet did slide, 

And downe he fell, with dread of shame sore terriflde. 

There grew a goodly tree him faire beside, 

Loaden with fruit and apples rosy redd. 

As they in pure vermilion had been dide, 

"Whereof gTeat vertues over all were redd : 

For happy life to all which thereon fedd, 

And life eke everlasting did befall : 

Great God it planted in that blessed stedd 

With his. Almighty hand, and did it caU. 

The Tree of Life, the crime of our first fathers fall. 

In all the world like was not to be fownd. 

Save in that soile, where all good things did grow. 

And freely sprong out of the fruitfull grownd. 

As incorrupted Nature did them sow. 

Till that dredd dragon all did overthrow. 

Another like faire tree eke grew thereby. 

Whereof whoso did eat, eftsoones did know 

Both good and ill : O mournfuU memory ! 

That tree through one mans fault hath do en us all to dy I 

Prom that first tree forth flowd, as from a well, 

A trickling streame of balme, most soveraine 

And dainty deare, which on the ground still fell, 

And overflowed all the fertile plaine. 

As it had deawed bene with timely raine ; 

Life and long health that gracious ointment gave ; 

And deadly wounds could heale ; and reare againe 

The sencelesse corse appointed for the grave : 

Into that same he fell, which did from death him save, 

Por nigh thereto the ever-damned beast 

Durst not approch, for he was deadly made, 

And al that life preserved did detest ; 

Yet he it oft adventm*'d to invade. 

3y this the drouping Daj^-light gan to fade. 

And yield his rowme to sad succeeding Night, 

Who with her sable mantle gan to shade 

The face of earth and w ayes of living wight. 

And high her burning torch set up in heaven bright. 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 119 

When gentle Una saw tlie second fall 

Of her deare Irnight, who, weary of long fight, 

And faint through losse of blood, moov'd not at aU, • 

But lay, as in a dreame of deepe delight, 

Besmeard with pretious balme, whose vertuous might 

Did heale his woundes, and scorching heat alay ; 

Againe she stricken was with sore anright. 

And for his safetie gan devoutly pray. 

And watch the noyous night, and wait for ioyous day. 

The ioyous day gan early to appeare ; 
And fayre Aurora from the deawy bed 
Of aged Tithone gan herselfe to reare 
With rosy cheekes, for shame as blushing red : 
Her golden locks, for hast, were loosely shed 
About her eares, when Una her did marke 
Clymbe to her charet, all with flowers spred. 
From heven high to chace the chearelesse darke ; 
With mery note her lowd salutes the mountain larke. 

Then freshly up arose the doughty knigbt, 

AU healed of Jiis hurts and woundes wide^ 

And did himselfe to battaile ready dight ; 

Whose early foe awaiting him beside 

To have devourd, so soone as day he spyde. 

When now he saw himselfe so freshly reare. 

As if late fight had nought Mm damnify de, 

He woxe dismaid, and gan bis fate to feare ; 

Nathlesse with wonted rage he him adyaunced neare ; 

And in his first encounter, gaping wyde. 

He thought attonce him to have swaUowd quight, 

And rusht upon him with outragious pryde ; 

Who him rencounting fierce as hauke in flight. 

Perforce rebutted back : the weapon bright. 

Taking advantage of his open iaw, 

Han through his mouth with so importune might. 

That deepe emperst his darksome hollow maw, 

And, back retyrd, his life blood forth withall did draw. 

So downe he fell, and forth his life did breath, 
That vanisht into smoke and cloudes swift ; 
So downe he fell, that th' earth him underneath 
Did grone, as feeble so great load to lift ; 
So downe he fell, as an huge rocky clift, 
Whose false foundacion waves have was lit away. 
With dreadfull poyse is from the mayneland rift, 
And, rolHng downe, great Neptune doth dismay : 
So downe he fell, and lilce an heaped mouutaine lay. 



120 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

The kniglit liimselfe even trembled at his fall. 

So huge and horrible a masse it seemd ; 

And l2s deare lady, that beheld it all, 

Durst not approch for dread which she misdeemd ; 

[But yet at last, whenas the direfull feend 

She saw not stirre, off-shaking vaine affright 

She nigher drew, and saw that ioyous end : 

Then God she praysd, and thankt her faithfuU knight, 

That had atcliievde so great a conquest by his might. 



CANTO xn. 

Fayre Una to the Eedcrosse kniglit 

Betrouthed is with ioy : 
Though false Duessa, it to barre. 

Her false sleightes doe imploy. 

Eehoid I see the haven nigh at hand. 

To which I meane my wearie course t9 bend ; 

Vere the maine shete, and beare up with the land. 

The which afore is fayrly to be kend. 

And seemeth safe from storms that may offend : 

There this fayre virgin wearie of her way 

Must landed bee, now at her iourneyes end ; 

There eke my feeble barke a while may stay. 

Till mery wynd and weather call her thence away. 

Scarsely had PhcBbus in the glooming east 

Yett harnessed his fyrie-footed teeme, 

'Ne reard above the earth his flaming creast ; 

When the last deadly smoke aloft did steenu) 

That signe of last outbreathed life did seeme 

Unto the watchman on the castle-wall. 

Who thereby dead that balefull beast did deeme 

And to his lord and lady lowd gan call. 

To tell how he had seene the dragons fatall fall. 

Uprose with hasty ioy, and feeble speed, 

That aged syre, the lord of all that land. 

And looked forth, to weet if trew indeed 

Those tydinges were, as he did understand : 

Which whenas trew by tryall he out-fond. 

He badd to open wyde his brasen gate. 

Which long time had beene shut, and out of hond 

Proclaymed ioy and peace through all his state ; 

For dead now was their foe, which them forrayed late. 



THE FAERIE QTJEENE. 121 

ITien gan triuinpliant trompets sownd on hye, 

Tliat sent to heven the ecchoed report 

Of their new ioy, and happie victory 

Gainst him, that had them long opprest with torfc. 

And fast imprisoned in sieged fort. 

Then all the people, as in solemne feast, 

To him assembled with one full consort, 

Beioycing at the fall of that great beast, 

From whose eternall bondage now they were releast. 

Forth came that auncient lord, and aged qneene, 
Arayd in antique robes downe to the grownd, 
And sad habiliments right well beseene : 
A noble crew about them waited rownd 
Of sage and sober peres, all gravely gownd; 
Whom far before did march a goodly band 
Of tall young men, all hable armes to sownd. 
But now they laurell braunches bore in hand ; 
Glad signe of victory and peace in all their land. 

Unto that doughtie conguerour they came. 

And, him before themselves prostrating low. 

Their lord and patrone loud did him proclame. 

And at his feet their lawrell boughes did throw. 

Soone after them, all dauncing on a row, ^ 

The comely virgins came, with girlands dight. 

As fresh as ilowres in medow greene doe grow, 

When morning deaw upon their leaves doth light ; 

And in their handes sweet timbrells all uphheld on hight. 

And, them before, the fry of children yong 

Their wanton sportes and childish mirth did play. 

And to the maydens sownding tymbrels song 

In well attuned notes a ioyous lay. 

And made delightful musiclc all the way, 

Untill they came, where that faire Virgin stood : 

As fayre Diana in fresh sommers day 

Beholdes her nymphes enraung'd in shady wood, 

Some wrestle, some do run, some bathe in christall flood : 

So she beheld those maydens meriment 

With chearefull vew ; who, when to her they came. 

Themselves to ground with gracious humblesse bent, 

And her ador'd by honorable name, 

Lifting to heven her everlasting fame : 

Then on her head they sett a girlond greene. 

And crowned her twixt earnest and twixt game: 

Who, in her self- resemblance well beseene, 

Did seeme, such as she was, a goodly maiden qucene. 



122 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

And after all the raskall many ran. 

Heaped together in rude rablement. 

To see the face of that victorious man. 

Whom all admired as from heaven sent. 

And gaz'd upon with gaping wonderment. 

But when they came where that dead dragon lay, 

Stretcht on the ground in monstrous large extent, 

The sight with ydle feare did them dismay, 

Ke durst approch him nigh, to touch, or once assay. 

Some feard, and iledd ; some feard, and weU it faynd ; 

One, that would wiser seeme then aU the rest, 

AYarnd him not touch, for yet perhaps remaynd 

Some lingring life within his hollow brest. 

Or in his wombe might lurke some hidden nest 

Of many dragonettes, his fruitfull seede ; 

Another saide, that in his eyes did rest 

Yet sparckling fyre, and badd thereof take heed ; 

Another said, he saw him move his eyes indeed. 

One mother, whenas her foolehardy chyld 
Did come too neare, and with his talants play, 
Halfe dead through feare, her little babe revyld, 
And to her gossips gan in counsell say ; 
** How can I teU, but that his talants may 
Yet scratch my sonne, or rend his tender hand ?" 
So diversly themselves in vaine they fray ; 
TMiiles some more bold to measure him nigh stand, 
To prove how many acres he did spred of land. 

Thus flocked all the folke him rownd about ; 

The whiles that hoarie king, with all his traine, 

Being arrived where that champion stout 

After his foes defeasaunce did remaine. 

Him goodly greetes, and fayre does entertayne 

AYitli princely gifts of yvory and gold. 

And thousand thankes him yeeldes for all his paine. 

Then when his daughter deare he does behold. 

Her dearely doth imbrace, and kisseth manifold. 

And after to his pallace he them bringes. 

With shaumes, and trompets, and with clarions sweet ; 

And all the way the ioyous people singes. 

And with their garments strowes the paved street ; 

Whence mounting up, they fynd purveyaunce meet 

Of all, that royali princes court became ; 

And all the floore was underneath their feet 

Bespredd with costly scarlott of great name. 

On which they lowly sitt, and httLng purpose frame. 




"But when they came vherc that dead dragon lay, 
Stretcht on the ground in monstrous large extent, 
The sight with idle fear did them dismay." 

Book 1. Canto XII. Ver. 9. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 123 

\Vliat needes me tell their feast and goodly guize. 

In which was nothing riotous nor vaine ? 

What needes of dainty dishes to devize, 

Of comely services, or courtly trayne. 

My narrow leaves cannot in them contayne 

The large discourse of roiall princes state. 

Yet was their manner then but bare and playne ; 

For th' antique world excesse and pryde did hate 

Such proud luxurious pompe is swollen up but late. 

Then, vdien with meates and drinkes of every kinde 

Their fervent appetite they quenched had, 

That auncient lord gan fit occasion finde, 

Of straunge adventures, and of perils sad 

Which in his travell him befallen had. 

For to demaund of his renowmed guest : 

Who then with utt 'ranee grave, and count 'nance sad. 

From poynt to poynt, as is before exprest, 

Discourst his voyage long, according his request. 

Great pleasure, mixt with pittiful regard. 

That godly king and queene did passionate, 

Whyles they his pittilull adventures heard ; 

That oft they did lament his lucklesse state, 

And often blame the too importune fate 

That heaped on him so many wrathfull wreakes ; 

(For never gentle knight, as he of late. 

So tossed was in fortunes cruell freakes ;) 

And all the while salt teares bedeawd the hearers clicaka. 

Then sayd that royall pere in sober wise ; 

" Deare sonne, great beene the evils which ye boro 

From first to last in your late enterprise. 

That I no'te whether praise or pitty more : 

For never living man, I weene, so sore 

In sea of deadly daungers was distrest : 

But since now safe ye seised have the shore. 

And well arrived are (high God be blest !) 

Let us devize of ease and everlasting rest." 

" All, dearest lord," said then that doughty knight, 

" Of ease or rest I may not yet devize ; 

For by the faith, .which I to armes have phght, 

I bownden am streight after this emprize, 

As that your daughter can je well advize, 

Backe to retourne to that great Faery Queene, 

And her to serve sixe yearos in warhke wize, 

Gainst that proud Paynim king that works her teene ; 

Therefore I ought crave pardon, till I there have beene/' 



124i THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

" Unliappy falls that hard necessity," 

Quoth he, "the troubler of my happy peace. 

And vowed foe of my felicity ; 

Ne I against the same can justly preace. 

But since that band ye cannot now release, 

IS'or doen undo, (for vowes may not be vayne,) 

Soone as the terme of those six yeares shall cease, 

Ye then shall hether back retourne agayne. 

The marriage to accomplish vowd betwixt you twayn : 

" Which, for my part, I covet to performe. 

In sort as through the world I did proclame. 

That whoso kild that monster most deforme. 

And him in hardy battayle overcame, 

Should have mine oncly daughter to his dame. 

And o'f my kingdome heyre apparaunt bee : 

Therefore since now to thee perteynes the same. 

By dew desert of noble chevalree, 

Both daughter and eke kingdome lo ! I yield to thee." 

Then forth he called that his daughter fayre. 

The fairest Un', his oncly daughter deare, 

His onely daughter and his oncly hayre ; 

Who forth proceeding with sad sober cheare. 

As bright as doth the morning starre appeare 

Out of the east, with flaming lockes bedight. 

To tell that dawning day is drawing neare. 

And to the world does bring long-wished light : 

So faire and fresh that lady shewd herselfe in sighfc : 

So faire and fresh, as freshest flowre in May; 
'For she had layd her mournefuU stole aside. 
And widow-like sad wimple throwne away,^ 
Wherewith her heavenly beautie she did hide. 
Whiles on her weary iourney she did ride ; 
And on her now a garment she did weare 
All lilly white, withoutten spot or pride. 
That seemd like silke and silver woven neare ; 
But neither silke nor silver therein did appearo. 

The blazing brightnesse of her beauties beame. 

And glorious light of her sunshyny face. 

To tell, were as to strive against the streame : 

My ragged rimes are all too rude and baco 

Her heavenly lineaments for to enchace. 

ISTe wonder ; for her own deare loved knight, 

All were she daily with himselfe in place. 

Did wonder much at her celestial sight : 

Oft had he seene her faire, but never so faii-o dight. 



THE FAERIE QTJEENE. 125 

So fairely diglit when slie in presence came. 

She to lier syre made humble reverence, 

And bowed low, that her right well became. 

And added grace nnto her excellence : 

Who with great wisedome and grave eloquence 

Thus gan to say — But, eare he thus had sayd, 

With flying speede, and seeming great pretence. 

Came running in, much hke a man dismay d, 

A messenger with letters, which his message sayd. 

All in the open hall amazed stood 

At suddeinnesse of that unwary sight. 

And wondred at his breathlesse hasty mood : 

But he for nought would stay his passage right, 

Till fast before the king he did alight ; 

Where falling flat great humblesse he did make, 

And kist the ground whereon his foot was pight ; 

Then to his handes that writt he did betake, 

Which he disclosing, read thus as the paper spake ; 

" To thee, most mighty king of Eden fayre. 
Her greeting sends in these sad hues addrest 
The wofull daughter and forsaken heyre 
Of that great emperour of all the west ; 
And bids thee be advized for the best, 
Ere thou thy daughter linck in holy band 
Of wedlocke, to that new unknowen guest : 
Eor he already plighted his right hand 
Unto another love, and to another land. 

" To me sad mayd, or rather widow sad, 
He was affyaunced long time before. 
And sacred pledges he both gave, and had, 
Ealse erraunt knight, infamous, and forswore ! 
Witnesse the burning altars, which he swore. 
And guilty heavens of his bold periury ; 
Which though he hath polluted oft of yore. 
Yet I to them for iudgment iust doe fly, 
And them coniure t' avenge this shameful! iniury ! 

" Therefore since mine he is, or free or bond. 

Or false or trew, or living or else dead. 

Withhold, O soverayne prince, your hasty hond 

Erom knitting league with him, I you aread ; 

Ne weene my right with strength adowne to tread. 

Through >veaknesse of my widowhed or woe ; 

For Truth is strong her rightfull cause to plead. 

And shall finde friends, if need requireth soe. [dcssa." 

So bids thee well to fare, thy neither friend nor foe, j^^ 



126 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

When he these bitter byting wordes had red. 

The tydinf^s straunge did him abashed make. 

That still he sate long time astonished, 

As in great muse, ne word to creature spake. 

At last his solemn silence thus he brake, 

With doubt full eyes fast fixed on his guest; 

'* Ee doubted knight, that for myne only sake 

Thy life and honor late adventurest ; 

Let nought be hid from me, that ought to be expresfc, 

" What meane these bloody vowes and idle threats, 

Throwne out from womanish impatient mynd ? 

What hevens ? what altars ? what enraged heates. 

Here heaped up with termes of love iinkynd. 

My conscience cleare with guilty bands would bynd? 

High God be witnesse, that I guiltlesse ame I 

But if yours elf e, sir knight, ye faulty fynd, 

Or wrapped be in loves of former dame. 

With cryme doe not it cover, but disclose the same.** 

To whom the Bedcrosse knight this answere sent; 

" My lord, my king; be nought hereat dismay d. 

Till well ye wote by grave intendiment. 

What woman, and wherefore, doth me upbrayd 

With breach of love and loialty betrayed. 

It was in my mishaps, as hitherward 

I lately traveild, that unawares I strayd 

Out of my way, through perils straunge and hard ; 

That day should faile me ere I had them all declard. 

" There did I find, or rather I was fownd 
Of this false woman that Fidessa hight, 
Fidessa hight the falsest dame on grownd. 
Most false Duessa, royall richly dight. 
That easy was t' inveigle weaker sight : 
Who by her wicked arts and wiely skill. 
Too false and strong for earthly skill or might. 
Unawares me wrought unto her wicked will, 
And to my foe betrayd, when least I feared ill.** 

Then steppeth forth the goodly royall mayd. 

And, on the ground herselfe prostrating low. 

With sober countenaunce thus to him saj^d ; 

** O pardon me, my soveraine lord, to show 

The secret treasons, which of late I know 

To have bene ^vrought by that false sorceresse : 

Shee, onely she, it is, that erst did throw 

This gentle knight into so great distresse. 

That death him did awaite in daily wretchednessa. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 127 

" And now it seemes, that slie suborned hath 

This crafty messenger with letters vaine. 

To worke new woe and unprovided scath. 

By breaking of the band betwixt us twaine ; 

"Wherein she used hath the practickc paine 

Of this false footman, clokt with simplenesse, 

Whome if ye please for to discover plaine. 

Ye shall him Archimago find, I ghesse, 

The falsest man alive ; who tries, shall find no lesse," 

The king was greatly moved at her speach ; 

And, all with suddein indignation fraight. 

Bad on that messenger rude hands to reach. 

Eftsoones the gard, which on his state did wait, 

Attacht that faytor false, and bound him strait : 

Who seeming sorely chaufFed at his band, 

As chained beare whom cruell dogs doe bait. 

With ydle force did faine them to withstand ; 

And often semblaunce made to scape out of their hand. 

But they him layd full low in dungeon deepe, ^ 
And bound him hand and foote with yron chains: 
And with continual watch did warely keepe. 
Who then would thinke, that by his subtile trains 
He could escape fowle death or deadly pains ? 
Thus, when that princes wrath was pacifide. 
He gan renew the late forbidden bains, 
And to the knight his daughter dear he tyde 
With sacred rites and vowes for ever to abyde. 

His owne two hands the holy knotts did knitt. 
That none but death for ever can divide ; 
His owne two hands, for such a turne most fitt, 
The housling fire did kindle and provide, 
And holy water thereon sprinckled wide ; 
At which the bushy teade a groome did light. 
And sacred lamp in secret chamber hide, 
Where it should not be quenched day nor night, 
Por feare of evil fates, but burnen ever bright. 

Then gan they sprinckle all the posts with wine, 
And made great feast to solemnize that day: 
They all perfumde with frankincense divine, 
And precious odours fetcht from far away. 
That all the house did sweat with great aray 
And all the wliile sweete musicke did apply 
Her curious skill the warbling notes to play. 
To drive away tho dull melancholy; 
The whiles one sung a song of love and ioUity. 



128 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

During the wliicli tliere was an Iieavenly noise 
Heard sownd through all the pallace pleasantly. 
Like as it had bene many an angels voice 
Singing before th' Eternall Maiesty, 
In their trinall triplicities on hye : 
Yett wist no creature whence that hevenly sweet 
Proceeded, yet each one felt secretly 
Hiinselfe thereby refte of his sences meet. 
And ravished with rare impression in his sprite. 

Great ioy was made that day of yonng and old. 
And solemne feast proclaymd throughout the land. 
That their exceeding merth may not be told : 
Suffice it heare by signes to understand 
The nsuall ioyes at knitting of loves band. 
Thrise happy man the knight himselfe did hold. 
Possessed of his ladies hart and hand ; 
And ever, when his eie did her behold. 
His heart did seeme to melt in pleasures manifold. 

Her ioyous presence, and sweet company, 

In full content he there did long enioy; 

ISTe wicked envy, ne vile geolosy, 

His deare delights were hable to annoy: 

Yet, swimming in that sea of blissfull ioy. 

He nought forgott how he whilome had swomc. 

In case he could that monstrous beast destroy. 

Unto his Faery Queene backe to retourne ; 

The which he shortly did; and Una left to mourne, 

ITow, strike your sailes, yee iolly mariners, 

Por we be come unto a quiet rode, 

Where we must land some of our passengers. 

And light this weary vessell of her lode. 

Here she a while may make her safe abode, 

Till she repaired have her tackles spent. 

And wants supphde ; and then againe abroad 

On the long voiage whereto she is bent : 

Well may she speede, and fairely finish her intent 1 



THE SECOND BOOK 

OP 

THE FAERIE QUEENE, 

CONTAYNING 

^^t %tQtVLts of Sir €rUBoit, or of ^emperaunce. 



RIGHT well I wote, most mighty soveraine. 
That all this famous antique histoiy 
Of some th' aboundance of an ydle braine 
Will iudged be, and painted forgery, 
Hather then matter of iust memory; 
Sith none that breatheth living aire doth know 
Where is that happy land of Faery, 
Which I so much doe vaunt, yet no where show; 
But vouch antiquities, which no body can know* 

But let that man with better sence advize. 
That of the world least part to us is red; 
And daily how through hardy enterprize 
Many great regions are discovered, ^ 
Which to late age were never mentioned. 
Who ever heard of th' Indian Peru? 
Or who in venturous vessell measured 
The Amazon huge river, now found trew? 
Or fruitfullest Virginia who did ever vew? 

Yet all these were, when no man did them know. 

Yet have from wisest ages hidden beene ; 

And later times thinges more unknowne shall show 

Why then should witlesse man so much misweene, 

That nothing is, but that which he hath scene ? 

What, if within the moones fayre shining spheare, 

What, if in every other starre unseene 

Of other worldes he happily should heare ? 

He wonder would much more ; yet such to some appeare. 

Of Paery lond yet if he more inquyre, 
By certain signes, here sett in sondrie place. 
He may it fynd ; ne let him then admyre. 
But yield his sence to bee too blunt and bace. 
That no'te without an hound fine footing trace. 
And thou, O fayrest princesse under sky. 
In this fayre mirrhour maist behold thy face. 
And thine owne realmes in lond of Paery, 
And in this antique ymage thy great auncestry. 



130 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

The wliicli, O ! pardon me tlius to enfold 

In covert vele, and wrapt in shadowes light. 

That feeble eyes your glory may behold, 

Wliich ells could not endure those beames bright 

But would bee dazled with exceeding light. 

O ! pardon, and vouchsafe with patient eare 

The brave adventures of this Faery knight. 

The good Sir Guyon, gratiously to heare ; 

In whom great rule of Temp'raunce goodly doth appeare. 



CANTO I. 

Guyon, by Archimage abusd, 
The Reclcrosse knight awaytes ; 

Fyndes Mordant and Araavia slaine 
With ricasures poisoned baytes. 

That conning architect of cancred guyle. 
Whom princes late displeasure left in bands, 
Por falsed letters, and suborned wyle ; 
Soone as the Hedcrosse knight he understands 
To beene departed out of Eden landes, 
To serve againe his soveraine Elfm queene ; 
His artes he moves, and out of caytives handes 
Himselfe he frees by secret meanes unseene ; . 
His shackles emptie lefte, himselfe escaped eleene ; 

And forth he fares, full of malicious mynd, 
To worken mischiefe, and avenging woe, 
Whereever he that godly knight may fynd. 
His onely hart-sore and his onely foe ; 
Sith Una now he algates must foregoe, 
Whom his victorious handes did earst restore 
To native crowne and kingdom late ygoe ; 
Where she enioyes sure peace for evermore, 
As wetherbeaten ship arryv'd on happie shore. 

Him therefore now the obiect of his spight 

And deadly food he makes : him to offend 

By forged treason, or by open fight. 

He seekes, of all his drifte the aymed end : 

Thereto his subtile engins he does bend, 

His practick witt and his fayre fyled tonge, 

With thousand other sleightes ; for well he kend 

His credit now in doubtful! ballaunce hong : 

For hardly could bee hurt, who was already stong. 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 131 

Still, as he went, lie craftie stales did lay. 

With, cunning traynes him to entrap unwares. 

And privy spyals plast in all his way, 

To weete what course he takes, and how he fares 5 

To ketch him at a vauntage in his snares. 

But now so wise and wary was the knight 

By tryall of his former harmes and cares. 

That he descryde, and shonned still, his slight : 

The fish, that once was caught, new bayt wil hardly byte. 

Nath'lesse th' enchaunter would not spare his payne. 

In hope to win occasion to his will ; 

Which when he long awaited had in vayne. 

He chaungd his mynd from one to other ill: 

For to all good he enimy was still. 

Upon the way him fortuned to meete, ^ 

Fayre marching underneath a shady hill, 

A goodly knight, all armd in harnesse meete, 

That from his head no place appeared to his feete. 

His carriage was full comely and upright ; 
His countenance demure and temperate ; 
But yett so sterne and terrible in sight, . 
That cheard his friendes, and did his foes amatc : 
He was an Elfin borne, of noble state 
And mickle worship in his native land ; 
Well could he tourney, and in lists debate, 
And knighthood tooke of good Sir Huons hand, 
When with king Oberon he came to Fary land. 

Him als accompanyd upon the way 

A comely palmer, clad in black attyre. 

Of rypest yeares, and heares all hoarie gray. 

That wdth a staffe his feeble steps did stire, 

Least his long way his aged limbes should tire: 

And, if by lookes one may the mind aread. 

He seemd to be a sage and sober syre ; 

And ever with slow pace the knight did lead. 

Who taught his trampling steed with equaU steps to tread. 

Such whenas Archimago them did view, 

He weened well to worke some uncouth wylo: 

Eftsoones, untwisting his deceiptfull clew. 

He gan to weave a web of wicked guyle ; 

And, with faire countenance and ilattring stylo 

To them approching, thus the knight bespake ; 

** Fayre sonne of Mars,«that seeke with warlike spoyle. 

And great atchiev'ments, great yourselfe to make. 

Vouchsafe to stay your steed for humble misers sake." 



132 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

He stayd his steed for Iiumble misers sake, 

And badd tell on the tenor of his playnt : 

"Who feigning then in every hmb to quake 

Through inward feare, and seeming pale and faynt. 

With piteous mone his percing speach gan paynt : 

" Deare lady ! how shall I declare thy cace, 

Whom late I left in languorous constraynt ? 

Would God ! thyselfe now present were in place 

To tell this ruefull tale : thy sight could win thee grace : 

" Or rather would, O ! would it so had chaunst. 

That you, most noble sir, had present beene 

When that lewd fybauld, with vyle lust advaunst, 

Laid first his filthie hands on virgin cleene, 

To spoyle her dainty corps, so faire and sheene 

As on the earth, great mother of us all, 

With living eye more fayre was never scene 

Of chastity and honour virginall : 

Witnes, ye heavens, whom she in vaine to help did call ! 

*' How may it be," sayd then the knight halfe wroth. 

That knight should knighthood ever so have shent?" 

'^JN'one but that saw," quoth he, "would weene for troth, 

How shamefully that mayd he did torment : 

Her looser golden lockes he rudely rent. 

And drew her on the ground ; and his sharpe sword 

Against her snowy brest he fiercely bent, 

And threatned death with many a bloodie word ; 

Tounge hates to tell the rest that eye to see abhord." 

Therewith amoved from his sober mood, 

"And lives he yet," said he, " that wrought this act? 

And doen the heavens afford him vitall food?" 

** He lives," quoth he, ** and boasteth of the fact, 

Ne yet hath any knight his courage crackt." 

" Where may that treachour then," sayd he, " be found, 

Or by what meanes may I his footing tract ?" 

** That shall I shew," said he, " as sure as hound 

The stricken deare doth chaleng by the bleeding wound," 

He stayd not lenger talke, but with fierce yre 

And zealous haste away is quickly gone 

To seeke that knight, where him that crafty squyre 

Supposd to be. They do arrive anone 

Where- sate a gentle lady all alone. 

With garments rent, and heare discheveled. 

Wringing her handes, and making.piteous mone : 

Her swollen eyes were much disfigured. 

And her faire face with teares was lowly blubbered. 



THE FAEBIE QTJEENE. 133 

The knight, approcliin£c nigh, thus to her said ; 

" Faire lady, through fowle sorrow ill bedight. 

Great pitty is to see you thus dismayd, 

And marre the blossom of your beauty bright : 

Forthy appease your griefe and heavy plight. 

And tell the cause of your conceived payne ; 

For, if he live that hath you doen despight. 

He shall you doe dew recompence agayne. 

Or els his wrong with greater puissance maintaine." 

Which when she heard, as in despightfull wise 
She wilfully her sorrow did augment, • 
And offred hope of comfort did despise : 
Her golden lockes most cruelly she rent, 
And scratcht her face with ghastly dreriment ; 
Ne would she speake, ne see, ne yet be scene. 
But hid her visage, and her head downe bent. 
Either for grievous shame, or for great teene. 
As if her hart with sorrow had transfixed beene: 

Till her that squyre bespake ; " Madame, my liefe. 
For Gods deare love be not so wilfull bent, 
But doe vouchsafe now to receive reliefe, 
The which good fortune doth to you present. 
For what bootes it to weepe and to wayment 
When ill is chaunst, but doth the ill increase, 
And the weake minde with double woe torment?" 
When she her squyro heard speake, she gan appease 
Her voluntarie paine, and feele some secret ease. 

Eftsoone she said ; "Ah! gentle trustie squyre, 
What comfort can I, wofull wretch, conceave ! 
Or why should ever I henceforth desyre 
To see faire heavens face, and life not leave, 
Sith that false traytour did my honour reave?" 
" False traytour certes," saide the Faerie knight, 
** I read the man, that ever would deceave 
A gentle lady, or her wrong through might ! 
Death were too litle paine for such a fowle despight. 

" But now, fayre ladye, comfort to you make. 
And read who hath ye wrought this shamefull plight. 
That short revenge the man may overtake, 
Whereso he be, and soon upon him hght.'' 
" Certes," said she, *' I wote not how he hight. 
But under him a gray steede he did wield. 
Whose sides with dapled circles weren dight : 
Upright he rode, and in his silver shield 
He bore a bloodie crosse, that quartred all the field.** 
7 



134 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

'•'Now by my head," saide Guyon, "mncli I muse 

How tliat same kniglit should doe so fowle amis, 

Or ever gentle damzell so abuse : 

For may I boldly say, he sm^ely is 

A right good knight, and trew of word ywis : 

I present was, and can it witnesse well. 

When armes he swore, and streight did enterprls 

Th* adventure of the errant damozeU ; 

In which he hath great glory wonne, as I heare tel. 

" JSTathlesse he shortly shall againe be tryde, 

And fairely quit kim of th' imputed blame ; 

Els, be ye sure, he dearely shall abyde, 

Or make you good amendment for the same : 

All wrongs have mendes,but no amendes of shame* 

JS'ow therefore, lady, rise out of your paine, 

And see the salving of your blotted name." 

Pull loth she seemd thereto, but yet did faine ; 

Por she was inly glad her purpose so to gaine. 

Her purpose was not such as she did faine, 

ISTe yet her person such as it was scene ; 

But under simple shew, and semblant plaine, 

Lurkt false Duessa secretly imseene, 

As a chaste virgin that had wronged beene ; 

So had false Archimago her disguysd. 

To cloke her guile with sorrow and sad teene ; 

And eke himselfe had craftily devisd 

To be her squire, and do her service well aguisd. 

Her, late forlome and naked, he had found 
Where she did wander in waste wildernesse. 
Lurking in rockes and caves far under ground. 
And with greene mosse cov'riag her nakednesse 
To hide her shame and loathly filthinesse, 
Sith her Prince Arthur of proud ornaments 
And borrowd beauty spoyld : her nathelesse 
Th' enchaunter finding fit for his intents 
Did thus revest, and deckt with dew habiliments. 

For all he did was to deceive good knights,^ 
And draw them from pursuit of praise and famo 
To slug in slouth and sensuall delights, 
And end their daies with irrenowned shame. 
And now exceeding griefe him overcame. 
To see the Eedcrosse thus advaunced hye 5 
Therefore this craftie engine he did frame. 
Against his praise to stirre up enmity e 
Of such, as vertues like mote unto hun allye. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 135 

So now lie Guyon gnydes an uncouth way 

Tlirougli woods and mountaines, till they came at last . 

Into a pleasant dale that lowly lay 

Betwixt two hils, whose high heads, overplast, 

The valley did with coole shade overcast ; 

Through midst thereof a little river rold, 

"By which there sate a knight with helme unlaste, 

Himselfe refreshing with the liquid cold, 

After his travell long and labours manifold. 

** Lo ! yonder he," cryde Archimage alowd, 

"That wrought the shamefull fact which I did shew; 

And now he doth himselfe in secret shrowd, 

To fly the vengeaunce for his outrage dew; 

But vaine ; for ye shall dearely do him rew: 

(So God ye speed and send you good successe !) 

Which we far off will here abide to vew." 

So they him left inflam'd with wrathfulnesse, 

That streight against that knight his speare he did addresse. 

Who, seeing him from far so fierce to pricke. 
His warlike armes about him gan embrace. 
And in the rest his ready speare did sticke; 
Tho, whenas still he saw him towards pace. 
He gan rencounter him in eguall race. 
They bene ymett, both ready to affrap. 
When suddeinly that warriour gan abace 
His threatned speare, as if some new mishap 
Had him betide, or hidden danger did entrap ; 

And cryde, " Mercie, sir knight ! and mercie, lord. 

For mine offence and heedelesse hardiment. 

That had almost committed crime abhord. 

And with reprochfull shame mine honour shent. 

Whiles cursed Steele against that badge I bent. 

The sacred badge of my Redeemers death, 

Wliich on your shield is set for ornament !'* 

But his fierce foe his steed could stay uneath. 

Who, prickt with courage kene, did cruell battell breath. 

But, when he heard him speake, streight way he knew 

His errour ; and, himselfe inclyning, sayd ; 

" Ah ! deare Sir Guyon, well becommeth you. 

But me behoveth rather to upbrayd. 

Whose hastie hand so far from reason strayd, 

That almost it did naynous violence 

On that fayre ymage of that hevenly mayd. 

That decks and armes your shield witli faire defence : 

Your court'sie takes on you anothcrs dew offence.'* 



136 THE PAIEIE QUEENE. 

So beene they both, atone, and doen upreare 

Their bevers bright each other for to greet ; 

Goodly comportaunce each to other beare, 

And entertaine themselves with conrt'sies meet. 

Then said the Eedcrosse knight ; " jN'ow mote I weet, 

Sir Guyon, why with so fierce saliannce, 

And fell intent ye did at earst me meet ; 

Por, sith I know your goodly gouvernaunce. 

Great cause^I weene, you guided, or some lincouUi c^Acr-aj^cc/* 

*' Certes,'* said he, " weM mote I shame to tell 

The fond encheason that me hether led. 

A false infamous faitour late befell 

Me for to meet, that seemed ill bested, 

And playnd of grievous outrage, which he red 

A knight had wrought against a lady gent ; 

Which to avenge, he to this place me led. 

Where you he made the marke of hia intent, 

And now is fled : foule shame liim foltow wher he went !" 

So can he turne his earnest unto game, 

Through goodly handling and wise temperaunce. 

By this his aged guide in presence came ; 

Who, soone as on that knight his eye did glaunce, 

Eftsoones of him had perfect cognizaunce, 

Sith him in Faery court he late avizd ; 

And said ; "Eayre sonne, God give you happy chaunco. 

And that deare Crosse uppon your shield devizd, 

Wherewith above all knights ye goodly seeme aguizd ! 

" loy may you have, and everlasting fame. 

Of late most hard atchiev'ment by you donne. 

For which enrolled is your glorious name 

In heavenly registers above the sunne, 

W^here you a saint with saints your seat have wonnc i 

But wretched we, where ye have left your marke. 

Must now anew begin like race to ronne. 

God guide thee, Guyon, well to end thy warke. 

And to the wished haven bring thy weary barke !** 

" Palmer,*' him answered the Hedcrosse knight, 

** His be the praise, that this atchiev'ment TNTought, 

Who made my hand the organ of His might ! 

More then goodwill to me attribute nought ; 

For all I did, I did but as I ought. 

33ut you, faire sir, whose pageant next ensewes. 

Well mote yee thee, as well can wish your thought. 

That home ye may report thrise happj^ newes ! 

For well ye worthy bene for worth and gentle thewea." 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 137 

So courteous conge both did give and take, 
With right hands plighted, pledges of good will. 
Then Guj^on forward gan his voyage make 
With his blacke palmer, that him guided still : 
Still he him guided over dale and hill, 
And with his steedy staffe did point his wa;y; 
His race with reason, and with words his will. 
From fowle intemperaunce he ofte did stay, 
And suffred not in wrath his hasty steps to stray* 

In this faire wize they traveild long yfere. 

Through many hard assayes which did betide ; 

Of which he honour still away did beare, 

And spred his glory through all countryes wide. 

At last, as chaunst them by a forest side 

To passe, for succour from the scorching ray. 

They heard a ruefull voice, that dearnly cride 

With percing shriekes and many a dolefull lay ; 

Which to attend, awhile their forward steps they stay. 

"But if that carelesse hevens," quoth she, "despise 

The doome of iust revenge, and take dehght 

To see sad pageaunts of mens miseries. 

As bownd by them to live in lives despight ; 

Yet can they not wame Death from wretched wight. 

Come, then ; come soone ; come, sweetest Death, to me. 

And take away this long lent loathed light : 

Sharpe be thy wounds, but sweete the medicines be. 

That long captived soules from weary thraldrome free. 

** But thou, sweete babe, whom frowning fro ward fate 

Hath made sad witnesse of thy fathers fall, 

Sith heven thee deignes to hold in living state. 

Long maist thou live, and better thrive withaU 

Then to thy lucklesse parents did befall ! 

Live thou ! and to thy mother dead attest. 

That cleare she dide from blemish criminall : 

Thy httle hands embrewd in bleeding brest 

Loe ! I for pledges leave ! So give me leave to rest V* 

With that, a deadly ehrieke she forth did throw 
That through the wood re-echoed againe ; 
And after gave a grone so deepe and low 
That seemd her tender hart was rent in twaine. 
Or thrild with point of thorough-piercing paine : 
As gentle hynd, whose sides with cruell Steele 
Through launched, forth her bleeding life does raine, 
"VVTiiies the sad pang approching sheo does feele, 
Braies out her latest breath, and up her eics doth scolc. 



188 TflE PAEEIB QTTEENE. 

WJiicli wlien tliat warriour heard, dismounting straicj 

From his tall steed, he rusht into the thick, 

And soone arrived where that sad ponrtraict 

Of death and dolour lay, halfe dead, halfe quick ; 

In whose white alabaster brest did stick 

A cruell knife, that made a griesly wownd, 

From which forth gusht a stream of gore-blood thick. 

That all her goodly garments" staind arownd, 

And into a deep sanguine dide the grassy grownd. 

Pitifull spectacle of deadly smart, 
IBeside a bubling fountaine low she lay, 
Which shee increased with her bleeding hart. 
And the cleane waves with purple gore did ray : 
Als in her lap a lovely babe did play 
His cruell sport, in stead of sorrow dew; 
!For in her streaming blood he did embay 
His little hands, and tender ioints embrew : 
Pitifull spectacle, as ever eie did vew! 

Besides them both, upon the soiled gras 

The dead corse of an armed knight was spred. 

Whose armour all with blood besprincled was ; 

His ruddy lips did smyle, and rosy red 

Did paint his chearefuU cheekes, yett being ded ; 

Seemd to have beene a goodly personage, 

Now in his freshest flowre of lustyhed, 

Mtt to inflame faire lady with loves rage, 

But that fiers fate did crop the blossome of his age. 

Whom when the good Sir Guyon did behold. 

His hart gan wexe as starke as marble stone, 

And his fresh blood did frieze with fearefull cold, 

That all his sences seemd berefte attone : 

At last his mighty ghost gan deepe to grone, 

As lion, grudging in his great disdaine, 

Mournes inwardly, and makes to himselfe mono ; 

Til ruth and frail e affection did constraine ^ 

His stout courage to stoupe, and shew his inward palne. 

Out of her gored wound the cruell steel 

He lightly snatcht, and did the floodgate stop 

With his faire garment : then gan softly feel 

Her feeble pulse, to prove if any drop 

Of living blood yet in her veynes did hop :^ 

Which when he felt to move, he hoped faire 

To call backe life to her forsaken shop : 

So well he did her deadly wounds repaire. 

That at the last shee gan to breath out living aire. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 139 

\Yhich he perceiving, greatly gan rejoice, 

And goodly counsell, that for wounded hart 

Is meetest med'cine, tempred with sweete voice ; 

" Ay me ! deare lady, which the ymage art 

Of ruefuU pitty and impatient smart, 

What direfull chaunce armd with avenging fate, 

Or cursed hand, hath plaid this cruell part. 

Thus fowle to hasten your untimely date ? 

Speake, Oh, dear lady, speake ; help never comes too late.** 

Therewith, her dim eie-lids she up gan reare. 

On which the drery death did sitt as sad 

As lump of lead, and made darke clouds appeare : 

But when as him, all in bright armour clad. 

Before her standing she espied had, . 

As one out of a deadly dreame affright. 

She weakely started, yet she nothing drad : 

Streight downe againe herselfe in great despight : 

She groveling threw to ground, as hating life and light. 

The gentle knight her soone with carefull paine 

Uplifted hght, and softly did uphold : 

Thrise he her reard, and thrise she sunck againe, 

Till he his armes about her sides gan fold. 

And to her said ; " Yet, if the stony cold 

Have not all seized on your frozen hart. 

Let one word fall that may your grief unfold, 

And tell the secrete of your mortall smart : 

He oft finds present helpe, who does his griefe impart.** 

Then, casting up a deadly looke, full low 

She sigh't from bottome of her wounded brest ; 

And, after many bitter throbs did throw. 

With lips full pale, and foltring tong opprest, 

These words she breathed forth from riven chest; 

" Leave, ah! leave off, whatever wight thou bee. 

To lett a weary wretch from her dew rest. 

And trouble dying soules tranquHitee ; 

Take not away now got, which none would give to me." 

" Ah ! far be it," said he, " dear dame, fro mee. 

To hinder soule from her desired rest, 

Or hold sad life in long captivitee : 

For, all I seeke, is but to have redrest 

The bitter pangs that doth your heart infest. 

Tell then, O lady, tell what fatall priefe 

Hath with so huge misfortune you opprest ; 

That I may cast to compas your reliefe, 

Or die with you in sorrow, and partake your griefe." 



140 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

With feeble hands then stretched forth on hye. 

As heven accusing guilty of her death, 

And with dry drops congealed in her eye, 

In these sad wordes she spent her utmost breath ; 

" Heare then, O man, the sorrowes that uneath 

My tong can tell, so far all sence they pas ! 

Loe ! this dead corpse, that lies here underneath, 

The gentlest knight, that ever on greene gras 

Gay steed with spurs did pricke, the good Sir Mordant was: 

" Was, (ay the while, that he is not so now !) 

My lord, my love, my deare lord, my deare love, 

So long as hevens iust with eguall brow 

Vouchsafed to behold us from above. 

One day, when him high corage did emmove, 

(As wont ye knightes to seeke adventures wilde,) 

He pricked forth his puissant force to prove, 

Me then he left enwombed of this childe. 

This lucklesse childe, whom thus ye see with blood delild. 

" Him fortuned (hard fortune ye may ghesse !) 

To copae, where vile Acrasia does wonne : 

Acrasia, a false enchaunteresse. 

That many errant knightes have fowle fordonno ; 

Within a wandring island, that doth ronne 

And stray in perilous gulfe, her dwelling is : 

!Fayre sir, if ever there ye travell, shonne 

The cursed land where many wend amis. 

And know it hy the name ; it hight the JBoiure of BUs, 

** Her blis is all in pleasure, and delight. 

Wherewith she makes her lovers dronken mad ; 

And then with words, and weedes, of wondrous might, 

On them she workes her will to uses bad : 

My liefest lord she thus beguiled had ; 

Por he was flesh : (all flesh doth frayltie breed !) 

Whom when I heard to beene so ill bestad, 

(Weake wretch,) I wrapt myselfe in palmers weed. 

And cast to seek him forth through danger and great drccd, 

" Now had fay re Cynthia by even tournes 

Pull measured three-quarters of her yeare. 

And thrice three tymes had fild her crooked homes, 

Whenas my wombe her burdein would forbeare. 

And bad me call Lucina to me neare. 

Lucina came : a manchild forth I brought : 

The woods, the nymphes, my bowres, my midwives, wearo 

Hard help at need ! so deare thee, babe, I bought ; 

Yet nought too dear I deemd, while so my deare I sought. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 141 

" Him so I souglit ; and so at last I fownd. 
Where him that witch had thralled to her will, - 
Id chaines of lust and lewde desyres ybownd, 
And so transformed from his former skill, 
That me he knew not, nether his owne ill ; 
Till, through wise handling and faire governaunce, 
I him recured to a better will. 
Purged from drugs of fowle intemperaunce : 
Then meanes I gan devise for his deliverance. 

" "Which when the vile enchauntresse perceiv'd. 

How that my lord from her I would reprive, 

With cup thus charmd him parting she deceivd ; 

* Sad verse, give death to him that death does give. 

And losse of love to her that loves to live, 

So soone as Bacchus with the ]N"ymphe does lincke !* 

So parted we, and on our iourney drive : 

Till, coming to this well, he stoupt to drincke : 

The charme fulfild, dead suddeinly he downe did sincke. 

" Which, when I, wretch" — Not one word more slie sayd, 

!But breaking off the end for want of breath. 

And sly ding soft, as downe to sleep e her layd, 

And ended all her woe in quiet death. 

That seeing, good Sir Guy on could uneath 

From teares abstayne ; for griefe his hart did grate, 

And from so heavie sight his head did wreath, 

Accusing fortune, and too cruell fate, 

Which plonged had faire lady in so wretched state. 

Then, turning to his palmer, said ; '* Old syre, 

Behold the ymage of mortalitie. 

And feeble nature cloth'd with fleshly tyre ! 

When raging Passion with fierce tyranny 

Pobs Keason of her dew regalitie. 

And makes it servaunt to her basest part ; 

The strong it weakens with infirmitie. 

And with bold furie amies the weakest hart ! [smart." 

The strong through pleasure soonest faUes, the weakc through 

"But Temperaunce," said he, "with golden squire 
Betwixt them both can measure out a meane ; 
Nether to melt in pleasures whott desyre. 
Nor frye in hartlesse griefe and dolefull tene : 
Thrise happy man, who fares them both atweeno ! , 
But sith this Avretched woman overcome 
Of anguish, rather then of crime, hath bene, 
Eeserye her cause to her eternall doome ; 
And, in the meane, vouchsafe her honorable toombe.'* 



142 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

" Palmer," quotli lie, " deatli is an equall dooino 
To good and bad, the common in of rest ; 
But after death the tryall is to come, 
When best shall bee to them that Hved best : 
]3ut both alike, when death hath both supprest, 
[Religious reverence doth burial teene ; 
Which who^o wants, wants so much of his rest s 
For all so greet shame after death I weene. 
As selfe to dyen bad, nnburied bad to beene. 

So both agree their bodies to engrave : 

The great earthes wombe they open to the sty. 

And with sad cypresse seemely it embrave ; 

Then, covering with a clod their closed eye. 

They lay therein their corses tenderly. 

And bid them sleepe in everlasting peace. 

But, ere they did their utmost obsequy. 

Sir Guyon more affection to increace, 

Bynempt a sacred vow, which none should ay releace. 

The dead knights sword out of his sheath he drew. 

With which he cutt a lock of all their heare, 

Which medling with their blood and earth he threw 

Into the grave, and gan devoutly sweare ; 

** Such and such evil God on Guyon reare. 

And worse and worse, young orphane, be thy payne. 

If I, or thou, dew vengeaunce doe forbeare, 

Till guiltie blood her guerdon doe obtayne !" — 

So, shedding many teares, they closd the earth agayne. 



CANTO 11. 

Babes bloody handes may not be clensd. 

The face of Golden Meane : 
Her sisters, Two Extremities, 

Strive her to banish cleane. 

Thus when Sir Guyon with his faithful guydc 

Had with dew rites and dolorous lament 

The end of their sad tragedie uptyde. 

The little babe up in his armes he hent ; 

Who with sweet pleasaunce, and bold blandishment, 

Gan smyle on them, that rather ought to weepe, 

As carelesse of his woe, or innocent 

Of that was doen ; that ruth emperced deepe [steepen 

In that knightes hart, and wordes with bitter teares did 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 143 

"All ! luctlesse babe, borne under cruell starre. 
And in dead parents baleful! ashes bred. 
Full little weenest thou what sorrowes are 
Left thee for porcion of thy livelyhed ; 
Poore orphane I in the wide world scattered. 
As budding braunch rent from the native tree. 
And throwen forth, till it be withered ! 
Such is the state of men ! Thus enter we 
Into this life with woe, and end with miseree l" 

Then, soft himselfe inclyning on his knee 
Downe to that well, did in the water weene 
(So love does loath disdainefull nicitee) 
His guiltie handes from bloody gore to cleene : 
He washt them oft and oft,' yet nought they beene 
For all his washing cleaner : still he strove ; 
Yet still the litle hands were bloody scene ; 
The which him into great amazement drove. 
And into diverse doubt his wavering wonder clove. 

He wist not whether blott of fowle offence 

Might not be purgd with water nor with bath ; 

Or that High God, in lieu of innocence. 

Imprinted had that token of His wrath, 

To shew how sore bloodguiltinesse He hat'th ; 

Or that the charme and veneme, which they dronck, 

Their blood with secret filth infected hath. 

Being diffused through the senceless tronck 

That, through the great contagion, direful deadly stonck. 

Whom thus at gaze the palmer gan to bord 
With goodly reason, and thus fayre bespake ; 
" Ye bene right hard amated, gratious lord. 
And of your ignorance great marveill make 
Whiles cause not well conceived ye mistake. 
Eut know, that secret vertues are infusd 
In every fountaine, and in everie lake. 
Which, who hath skill them rightly to have chusd. 
To proofe of passing wonders hath full often usd : 

" Of those, some were so from their sourse indewd 

By great dame JN'ature, from whose fruitfuU pap 

Their welheads spring, and are with moisture deawd ; 

Which feeds each living plant with liquid sap, 

And fills with flowres fayre Floraes painted lap : 

But other some, by guifte of later grace 

Or by good prayers, or by other hap, 

Had vertue pourd into their waters bace, [place* 

And thenceforth were renowmd, and sought from place to 



144 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

*' Sucli is this well, vrronglit by occasion strauni^e, 
Whicli to tier nympK befell. Upon a dav, 
As she the woodes ^ith bow andshaftes did ran age. 
The heartlcssc h^^nd and roebucke to dismaj', 
Dan Fannus chaunsfc to meet her by the way, 
And, kindling fire at her faire-bnming eye, 
Inflamed was- to follow beauties chace, 
And chased her, that fast from him did fly; 
As hynd from her, so she fled from her enimy. 

** At last, when fayling breath began to faint. 
And saw no meanes to scape ; of shame affrayd. 
She set her downe to weepe for sore constraint ; 
And, to Diana calling lowd for ayde. 
Her deare besought to let her die a mayd. 
The goddesse heard; and suddeine, where she sate 
Welling out stream es of teares, and quite dismayd 
With stony feare of that rude rustick mate, 
Transformd her to a stone from stedfast virgins state. 

" Lo ! now she is that stone ; from whose two heads. 
As from two weeping eyes, fresh streames do flow. 
Yet colde through feare and old conceived dreads ; 
And yet the stone her semblance seemes to show, 
Shapt like a maide, that such ye may her know ; 
And yet her vertues in her water byde : 
For it is chaste and pure as purest snow, 
"Ne lets her waves with any filth be dyde ; 
But ever, hke herselfe, imstayned hath beene tryde. 

" From thence it comes, that this babes bloody hand 

May not be clensd with water of this well: 

"Ne certes, sir, strive you it to withstand. 

But let them still be bloody, as befell, 

That they his mothers innocence may tell, 

As she bequeathd in her last testament ; 

That as a sacred s^mbole, it may dwell 

In her sonnes flesh, to mind revengement. 

And be for all chaste dames an endlesse moniment.** 

He hearkned to his reason •**'and the childe 

Ilptaking, to the palmer gave to beare; 

But his sad fathers armes with blood defilde. 

An heavie load, himselfe did hghtly reare ; 

And turning to that place, in which whylearo 

He left his loftie steed with golden sell 

And goodly gorgeous barbes, him found not theare s 

By other accident, that earst befell. 

He is convaide ; but how, or where, here fits not tell. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 145 

Whicli when Sir Guyon saw, all were lie wroth. 

Yet a] gates mote lie soft himselfe appease. 

And fairely fare on foot, however loth : 

His double burden did him sore disease. 

So, long they travelled with little ease. 

Till that at last they to a castle came. 

Built on a rocke adioyning to the seas : 

It was an auncient worke of antique fame, ^ 

And wondrous strong by nature and by skilfull frame. 

Therein three sisters dwelt of sundry sort. 

The children of one syre by mothers three 5 

Who, dying whylome, did divide this fort 

To them by equall shares in equall fee : 

But stryfull mind and diverse qualitee 

Drew them in partes, and each made others foe : 

Still did they strive and daily disagree ; 

The eldest ctid against the youngest goe. 

And both against the middest meant to worken woe. 

Where when the knight arrived, he was right well 

Heceiv'd, as knight of so much worth became. 

Of second sister, who did far excell 

The other two ; Medina was her name, 

A sober, sad, and comely courteous dame : 

Who rich arayd, and yet in modest guize. 

In goodly garments that her well became, 

Fayre marching forth in honorable wize, 

Him at the threshold mett and well did enterprize. 

She led him up into a goodly bowre. 
And comely courted with meete modestic 5 
No in her speach, ne in her haviour,^ 
Was lightnesse scene or looser vanitie. 
But gratious womanhood, and gravitie. 
Above the reason of her youthly yeares : 
Her golden lockes she roundly did uptye 
In breaded tramels, that no looser lieares 
Did out of order stray about her daintie eareg# 

Whilst she her selfe thus busily did frame 

Seemely to entertaine her new-come guest, 

Newes hereof to her other sisters came. 

Who all this while were at their wanton rest, 

Accourtin^each her frend with lavish fest : 

They w^ere two knights of perelesse puissaunce. 

And famous far abroad for warlike gest. 

Which to these ladies love did countenaunce, 

And to his mistresse each himselfo strove to advaunco. 



146 THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 

He, that inaAe love unto the eldest dame, 

AYas hight Sir Huddibras, an hardy man; 

Yet not so good of deedes as great of name, 

Which he by many rash adventures Tran, 

Since errant armes to sew he first began. 

jMore huge in strength than wise in workes he was 

And reason with fool-hardize over-ran ; 

Sterne melancholy did his courage pas ; 

And was, for terrour more, all armd in shyning bras. 

But he, that ioy'd the youngest, was Sansloy; 

He, that faire Una late fowle outraged, 

The most unruly and the boldest boy 

That ever warlike weapons menaged, 

And all to lawlesse lust encouraged 

Through strong opinion of his matchlesse might 5 

JNTe ought he car'd whom he endamaged 

By. tortious wrong, or whom bereav'd of right ; 

He, now this ladies champion, chose for love to fight. 

These two gay knights vowd to so diverse loves. 

Each other does envy with deadly hate, 

And daily warre against his foeman moves, 

In hoiDC to win more favour with his mate, 

And th' others pleasing service to abate, 

To magnifie his owne. But when they heard 

How in that place straunge knight arrived late, 

Both knights and ladies forth right angry far'd. 

And fercely unto battell sterne themselves prepar'd. 

But, ere they could proceede unto the place 

"Where he abode, themselves at discord fell, 

And cruell combat ioynd in middle space : 

With horrible assault, and fury fell. 

They heapt huge strokes the scorned life to quell, 

That all on uprore from her settled seat 

The house was raysd, and all that in did dwell; 

Seemd that lowd thunder with amazement great 

Did rend the ratling skyes with fiames of fouldring heat. 

The noyse thereof cald forth that straunger knight, 
To weet what dreadfull thing was there in hond ; 
Where whenas two brave knightes in bloody fight 
With deadly rancour he enraunged fond, 
His sunbroad shield about his wrest he bond. 
And shyning blade imsheathd, with which he ran 
Unto that stead, then* strife to understond ; 
And, at his first arrivall, them began 
Witk goodly meanes to pacific, well as he can. 



THE FAERIE QUEEN E. 147 

But they, him spying, both with greedy forse 

Attonce upon him ran, and him beset 

With strokes of mortall Steele without remorse, 

And on his shield like yron sledges bet. 

As when a beare and tygre, being met 

In cruell fight on Lybicke ocean wide, 

Espye a traveiler with feet surbet. 

Whom they in equall pray hope to divide. 

They stint their strife and him assay le on everie side. 

But he, not like a wearie traveilere. 
Their sharp assault right boldly did rebut, 
And sufFred not their blowes to byte him nere, 
But with redoubled buffes them backe did put : 
Whose grieved mindes, which choler did englut, 
Against themselves turning their wrathfull spight, 
Gan with new rage their shieldes to hew and cut. 
But still, when Guyon came to part their fight. 
With heavie load on him they freshly gan to smight. 

As a tall ship tossed in troublous seas, 

Whom raging windes, threatning to make the pray 

Of the rough rockes, doe diversly disease, 

Meetes two contrarie billowes by the way. 

That her on either side doe sore assay, 

And boast to swallow her in greedy grave ; 

Shee, scorning both their spights, does make wide way. 

And with her brest breaking the fomy wave. 

Does ride on both thek backs, and faire herself doth save : 

So boldly he him beares, and rusheth forth 
Betweene them both, by conduct of his blade. 
Wondrous great prowesse and heroick worth 
He shewd that day, and rare ensample made, 
When two so mightie warriours ho dismade : 
Attonce he wards and strikes ; he takes and paies ; 
Now forst to yield, now forcing to invade ; 
Before, behind, and round about him laies : 
So double was his paines, so double be his praise. 

Straunge sort of fight, three valiaunt knights to sec 
Three combates ioine in one, and to darraino 
A triple warre with triple enmitee, 
All for their ladies froward love to gaine. 
Which, gotten, was but hate. So Love does raino 
In stoutest minds, and maketh monstrous warre; 
He maketh warre, he maketh peace againe, 
And yett his peace is but continual iarre : 
O miserable men, that to him subject axre ! 



148 THE PAERIE QTJEENE. 

Wliilst tlius tliey mingled were in furious armes. 
The faire Medina with her tresses torne 
And naked brest, in pitty of tkeir harmes, 
Emongst them ran; and, falling them beforne. 
Besought them by the womb which, them had born 
And by the loves which were to them most deare. 
And by the knighthood which they sure had suorn 
Their deadly cruell discord to forbeare. 
And to her lust conditions of faire peace to heare. 

But her two other sisters, standing by, 

Her lowd gainsaid ; and both their claampions bad 

Pursew the end of their strong enmity, 

As ever of their loves they would be glad : 

Yet she with pitthy words, and counsell sad. 

Still strove their stubborne rages to revoke ; 

That at the last, suppressing fury mad, 

They gan abstaine from dint of direfull stroke^ 

Ajid harken to the sober speaches which she spoke. 

" Ah ! puissant lords, what cursed evill spright, 

Or fell Erinnys, in your noble harts 

Her hellish brond hath kindled with despight. 

And stird you up to worke your wilfull smarts ? 

Is this the ioy of armes ? be these the parts 

Of glorious knighthood, after blood to thrust, 

And not regard dew right and iust desarts ? 

Yaine is the vaunt, and victory uniust. 

That more to mighty hands then rightfull cause doth trust. 

" And were there rightfull cause of dilTerence, 

Yet were not better fayre it to accord. 

Then with blood-guiltinesse to heape offence 

And mortal vengeaunce ioj^ne to crime abhord? 

O ! fly from wrath; fly, O my liefest lord! 

Sad. be the sights, and bitter fmits of warre. 

And thousand furies wait on wrathfull sword : 

"Ne ought the praise of prowesse more doth marre 

Then fowle revenging rage, and base contentious iarre. 

" But lovely concord, and most sacred peace, 

Doth nourish vertue, and fast friendship breeds ; ^ 

Weake she makes strong, and strong thing does increace. 

Till it the pitch of highest praise exceeds : 

Brave be her warres, and honorable deeds. 

By which she triumphs over yre and pride. 

And winnes an olive girlond jfor her meeds. 

Be therefore, O my deare lords, pacifide. 

And this misseeming discord meekely lay aside.** 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 140 

Her gracious words their rancour did appall. 

And suncke so deepe into their boyling brests. 

That downe they lett their cruell weapons fall, 

And lowly did abase their lofty crests 

To her faire presence and discrete behests. 

Then she began a treaty to procure, ^ 

And stablish terms betwixt both their requests, 

That as a law for ever should endure; 

Which to observe, in word of knights they did assure. 

Which to confirme and fast to bind their league. 

After their weary sweat and bloodjr toile, 

She then besought, during their quiet treague. 

Into her lodging to repair a while. 

To rest themselves, and grace to reconcile. 

They soone consent : so forth with her they fare; 

Where they are well receivd and made to spoile 

Themselves of soiled armes, and to prepare 

Their minds to pleasure, and their mouths to dainty fare. 

And those two froward sisters, their faire loves. 

Came with them eke, all were they wondrous loth, • 

And fained cheare, as for the time behoves ; 

But could not colour yet so well the troth, 

But that their natures bad appeard in both: 

!For both did at their second sister grutch 

And inly grieve, as doth an hidden moth 

The inner garment frett, not th' utter touch; 

One thought her cheare too litle, th' other thought too in u lulu 

Ehssa (so the eldest hight) did deeme 

Such entertainment base, ne ought would eat, 

Ne ought would speake, but evermore did seeme 

As discontent for want of merth or meat; 

No solace could her paramour intreat 

Her once to show, ne court, nor dalhaunce; 

But with bent lowring browes, as she would threat, 

She scould, and frownd with froward countenaunce; 

Unworthy of faire ladies comely governaunce. 

But young Perissa was of other mynd, 

Pull of disport, still laughing, loosely light. 

And quite contrary to her sisters kynd; 

No measure in her mood, no rule of right, 

But poured out in pleasure and dehght: 

In wine and meats she flowd above the banck, 

And in excesse exceeded her owne might; 

In sumptuous tire she ioyd her self to i)ranck, 

But of her love too lavish : httlo have she thanck t 



150 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Fast by lier side did sitt tlie bold Sansloy, 
Fitt mate for such a mincing mineon, 
VYIlo in her loosenesse tooke exceeding ioy; 
Might not be found a francker franion, 
Of her leawd parts to make companion. 
But Huddibras, more hke a male content, 
Pid see and grieve at his bold fashion; 
Hardly could he endure his hardiment; 
i'ett still he satt, and inly did himselfe torment. 

Betwixt them both the faire Medina sate 
With sober grace and goodly carriage: 
With equall measure she did moderate 
The strong extremities of their outrage; 
That forward paire she ever would ass wage. 
When they would strive dew reason to exceed; 
But that same froward twaine would accorage. 
And of her plenty adde unto their need: 
So kept she them in order, and herselfe in heed. 

Thus fairely shee attempered her feast. 

And pleasd them all with meete satiety: 

At last, when lust of meat and drinke was ceast. 

She Guyon deare besought of courtesie 

To tell from whence he came through ieopardy. 

And whether now on new adventure bownd: 

W^ho with bold grace, and comely gravity, 

Drawing to him the eies of all arownd, 

iFrom lofty siege began these words alowd to sownd. 

" This thy demaund, O lady, doth revive 

Fresh memory in me of that great queene. 

Great and most glorious virgin queene alive. 

That with her soveraine power, and scepter shene. 

All Faery lend does peaceably sustene. 

In widest ocean she her throne does reare. 

That over all the earth it may be scene; 

As morning sunne her beams dispredden cleare; 

And in her face faire peace and mercy doth appeare. 

" In her the richesse of all heavenly grace 
In chiefe degree are heaped up on hye: 
And all, that els this worlds enclosure baco 
Hath great or glorious in mortall eye, 
Adorues the person of her maiestye ; 
That men, beholding so great excellence 
And rare perfection in mortality e. 
Doe her adore with sacred reverence, 
As th' idole of her Makers great magnificence. 



THE FAEEIB QTTEENE. 151 

" To her I liomage and my service owe, 
In number of the noblest knightes on ground, 
Mongst whom on me she deigned to bestowe 
Order of maydenhead, the most renownd. 
That may this day in all the world be found. 
An yearely solemn feast she wontes to make, 
The day that first doth lead the yeare around, 
To which all knights of worth and courage bold 
Eesort, to heare of straunge adventures to be told. 

" There this old palmer shewd himselfe that day. 
And to that mighty princess e did complaine 
Of grievous mischiefes, which a wicked Fay 
Had wrought, and many whelmd in deadly paine. 
Whereof he crav'd redresse. My soveraine, 
Whose glory is in gracious deeds, and ioyes 
Throughout the world her mercy to maintaine, 
Eftsoones devisd redresse for such annoyes : 
Me, all unfitt for so great purpose, she employes. 

" JN'ow hath faire Phebe with her silver face 

Thrise scene the shade wes of the neather world, 

Sith last I left that honorable place, 

In which her roiall presence is entrold; 

'Ne ever shall I rest in house nor hold. 

Till I that false Acrasia have wonne; 

Of whose fowle deedes, too hideous to bee told, 

I witnesse am, and this their wretched sonne 

Whose wofull parents she hath wickedly fordonne." 

" Tell on, fayre sir," said she, " that dolefull tale, 

From which sad ruth does seeme you to restraine. 

That we may pitty such unhappie bale, 

And learne from Pleasures poyson to abstaine: 

111, by ensample, good doth often gayne." 

Then forward he his purpose gan pursew, 

And told the story of the mortall payne. 

Which Mordant and Amavia did row; 

As, with lamenting eyes, himselfe did lately vew, 

IN'ight was far spent; and now in ocean deep 

Orion, flying fast from hissing snake. 

His flaming head did hasten for to steep, 

When of his pitteous tale he end did make : 

Whilst with delight of that he wisely spake 

Those guestes beguyled did beguyle their eyes 

Of kindly sleepe, that did them overtake. 

At last, when they had markt the chaunged skyes, 

They wist their howre was spent; then each to rest him hyes. 



152 THE FAEEIE QUEEKE. 



CANTO ni. 

Vainc Braggadocchio, getting Guy- 

ons horse, is made the scorne 
Of knighthood trew ; and is of fayre 

Belphoebe fowle forlorne. 

SooNE as tlie morrow fayre witK purple beamcs 
Disperst tlie shadowes of the misty niglit. 
And. Titan, playing on the eastern streames, 
Gan cleare the deawy ayre with springing light 5 
Sir Guyon, mindfuU of his vow yplight, 
Uprose from drowsie couch, and him addrest 
Unto the iourney which he had behight : 
His puissant armes about his noble brest, ^ 
And many folded shield he bound about his wrest. 

Then, taking conge of that virgin pure, 

The bloody-handed babe unto her truth 

Did earnestly committ, and her coniure 

In vertuous lore to traine his tender youth. 

And all that gentle noriture ensu'th; 

And that, so soone as ryper yeares he raught, 

Ae might, for memory of that daj^es ruth, 

[Be called Euddymane; and thereby taught 

T' avenge his parents death on them that had it wi-ougTitt 

So forth he fard, as now befell, on foot, 

Sith his good steed is lately from him gone; 

Patience perforce: helplesse what may it boot 

To frett for anger, or for griefe to mone ? 

His palmer now shall foot no more alone. 

So fortune wrought, as under greene woodes sydo 

He lately heard that dying lady grone. 

He left his steed without, and speare besyde. 

And rushed in on foot to ayd her ere she dyde. 

The whyles a losell wandring by the way, 

One that to bountie never cast his mynd, 

INTc thought of honour ever did assay 

His baser brest, but in his kestrell kynd 

A pleasing vaine of glory he did fynd, 

To which his flowing toung and troublous sprlght 

Gave him great ayd, and made him more inclynd; 

He, that brave steed there finding ready dight, 

Purloynd both steed and speare, and ran away full light. 



THE FAEEIE QUEEl^TE, 153 

Now gan liis tarfc all swell in ioUity, 

And of liimselfe great hope and help conceiv'd. 

That puffed up with smoke of vanity, 

And with selfe-loved personage deceived. 

He gan to hope of men to be received 

For such, as he him thought, or faine would bee: 

But for in court gay portaunce he perceiv'd, 

And gallant shew to be in greatest gree, 

Eftsoones to court he cast t' advaunce his first degree. 

And by the way he channced to espy 

One sitting ydle on a sunny bancke. 

To whom avaunting in great bravery, 

As peacocke that his painted plumes doth pranck. 

He smote his courser in the trembling flanck. 

And to him threatned his hart-thrilling speare 

The seely man, seeing him ryde so ranck 

And ayme at him, fell flat to ground for feare, 

And crying, " Mercy,'* loud, his pitious handes gan reareu 

Thereat the scarcrow wexed wondrous prowd, 

Through fortune of his first adventure fayre, 

And with big thundring voice revyld him lowd ; 

"Vile caytive, vassal of dread and despayre? 

Unworthie of the commune breathed ayre. 

Why livest thou, dead dog, a lenger day, 

And doest not unto death thyselfe prepayre ? 

Dy, or thyselfe my captive yield for ay: 

Great favour I thee graunt for aunswere thus to stay.** 

" Hold, O deare lord, hold your dead-doing hand,'* 

Then loud he cryde, " I am your humble thrall.'* 

** Ah wretch," quoth he, " thy destinies withstand 

My wrathfuU will, and doe for mercy call. 

I give thee life : therefore prostrated fall. 

And kisse my stirrup ; that thy homage bee." 

The miser threw himselfe, as an offall, 

Streight at his foot in base humilitee, 

And cleeped him his liege, to hold of him in fee. 

So happy peace they made and faire accord* 
Eftsoones this liegeman gan to wexe more bold. 
And, when he felt the folly of his lord, 
In his owne kind he gan himselfe unfold: 
For he was wylie witted, and gro^^no old 
In cunning sleightes and practick knavery. 
From that day forth he cast for to uphold 
His ydle humour with fine flattery, 
And'blow the bellowes to his swelling vanity. 



154 , THE FAEEIE QXTEENE. 

Trompart, fitt man for Braggadoccliio 

To serve at court in yiew of vaunting eye: 

Vaine-glorious man, when fluttring wind does blow 

In his light winges, is lifted n-g to skye ; 

The scorne of knighthood and trew chevalrye. 

To thinke, without desert of gentle deed 

And noble worth, to be advaunced hye ; 

Such prayse is shame; but honour, vertues meed, 

Doth beare the fayrest flowre in honourable seed. 

So forth they pas, a well consorted payre, 

Till that at length with Archimage they meet: \ 

Who seeing one, that shone in armour fayre, 

On goodly courser thondring with his feet, 

Eftsoones supposed him a person meet 

Of his revenge to make the instrument : 

[For since the E-edcrosse knight he erst did weet 

To been with Guyon knitt in one consent, 

The ill, which earst to him, he now to Guyon ment. 

And comming close to Trompart gan inquere 

Of him, what mightie warriour that mote bee. 

That rode in golden sell with single spere, 

But wanted sword to wreake his enmitee. 

** He is a great adventurer," said he, 

*' Tliat hath his sword through hard assay forgone. 

And now hath vowd, till he avenged bee 

Of that despight, never to wearen none; 

That speare is him enough to doen a thousand grone.** 

Th* enchaunter greatly ioyed in the vaunt. 

And weened well ere long his will to win. 

And both his foen with eguall foyle to daunt : 

Tho to him louting lowly did begin 

To plaine of wronges, which had committed bin 

33y Guyo3i, and by that false Bedcrosse knight ; 

Which two, through treason and deceiptfull gin, 

Had slayne Sir Modant and his lady bright: 

That mote him honour win, to wreak so foule despight. 

Therewith all suddeinlj^ he seemd enrag'd, 

And threatned death with dreadfull countenaunce; 

As if their lives had in his hand beene gag'd; 

And with stiffe force shaking his mortaU launce. 

To let him weet his doughtie valiaunce, 

Thus said ; " Old man, great sure shal be thy meed, 

If, where those knights for feare of dew vengeaiince 

Doe lurke, thou certeinly to mee areed, 

That I may wreake on them their hainous hateful deed,* 



^ THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 155 

" Certes, my lord," said he, " that shall I soone, 

And give you eke good helpe to their decay, 

Eut mote I wisely you advise to doon; 

Give no ods to your foes, but doe purvay 

Yours elfe of sword before that bloody day; 

(For they be two the pro west knights on grownd. 

And oft approv'd in many hard assay;) 

And eke of surest Steele, that may be fownd. 

Do arme yourselfe against that day, them to confownd." 

"Dotard," saide he, "let be thy deepe advise ; 

Seemes that through many yeares thy wits thee faile^ 

And that weake eld hath left thee nothing wise. 

Els never should thy iudgement be so frayle 

To measure manhood by the sword or mayle. 

Is not enough fowre quarters of a man. 

Without en sword or shield, an hoste to quayle? 

Thou Htle wotest what this right-hand can : 

Speake they, which have beheld the battailes which it wan.'* 

The man was much abashed at his boast ; 

Yet well he wist that whoso would contend 

With either of those knightes on even coast. 

Should neede of all his armes him to defend ; 

Yet feared least his boldnesse should offend : 

When Braggadocchio saide ; " Once I did sweare. 

When with one sword seven knightes 1 brought to end. 

Thenceforth in battaile never sword to beare. 

But it were that which noblest knight on earth doth weare." 

"Perdy, sir knight," saide then th' enchaunter bhve, 

" That shall I shortly purchase to your hond : 

For now the best and noblest knight alive 

Prince Arthur is, that wonnes in 'Faerie lond ; 

He hath a sword, that flames like burning brond : 

The same, by my device, I undertake 

Shall by to-morrow by thy side be fond." 

At which bold word that boaster gan to quake, 

And wondred in his minde what mote that monster make. 

He stayd not for more bidding, but away 
Was suddein vanished out of his sight : 
The northerne winde his wings did broad display 
At his commaund, and reared him up light 
From off the earth to take his aerie flight. 
They lookt about, but no where could espye 
Tract of his foot : then dead through great afiright 
They both nigh were, and each bad other flye: 
Both fled attoncc, ne ever backe rctourned'eye ; 



153 THE FAEEIE QUEENB, 

Till tliat they come unto a forrest greene, 

In wliicli they sh.ro wd themselves from causeles feare; 

Yet feare them followes still, where so they beene : 

Each trembling leafe and whistling wind they heare, 

As ghastly bug, does greatly them affeare : 

Yet both doe strive their fearefulnesse to faine. 

At last they heard a home that shrilled cleare 

Throughout the wood that ecchoed againe, 

And made the forrest ring, as it would rive in twaine. 

Eft through the thiclre they heard one rudely rush ; 

With noyse whereof he from his loftie steed 

Downe fell to ground, and crept into a bush, 

To hide his coward head from dying dreed. 

But Trompart stoutly stayd to taken heed 

Of what might hap. ^ Eftsoone there stepped foorth 

A goodly ladie clad in hunters weed, 

That seemd to be a woman of great worth, 

And by her stately portance borne of heavenly birth. 

Her face so faire, as flesh it seemed not, 
But hevenly pourtraict of bright angels hew, 
Cleare as the skye, withouten blame or blot. 
Through goodly mixture of complexions dew; 
And in her cheekes the vermeill red did shew 
Like roses in a bed of lillies shed, 
The which ambrosiall odours from them threw. 
And gazers sence with double pleasure fed, 
Hable to heale the sicke and to revive the ded. 

In her faire eyes two living lamps did flame. 

Kindled above at th' hevenly Makers lights 

And darted fyrie beames out of the same, 

So passing persant and so wondrous bright, 

That quite bereav'd the rash beholders sight : 

In them the blinded god his lustfull fyre 

To kindle oft assayd, but had no might ; 

For, with dredd maiestie and awfull yre, 

She broke his wanton darts, and quenched baco dcsyre. 

Her yvorie forhead full of bountie brave. 

Like a broad table did itselfe dispred. 

For Love, his loftie triumphes to engrave. 

And write the battailes of his great godhed: 

All good and honour might therein be red ; 

Eor there their dwelling was. And, when she spake, 

Sweete wordes, like dropping honny, she did shed ; 

And twixt the perles and rutins softly brake 

A silver sound, that heavenly musicke seemd to make. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 157 

• 

Upon lier eyelids many graces sate, 

Under the sliadow of her even browes, 

Working belgardes and amorous retrate; 

And everie one her with a grace endowes, 

And everie one with meekenesse to her bowes : 

So glorious mirrhour of celestiall grace, 

And soveraine moniment of mortall vowes. 

How shall frayle pen descrive her heavenly face, 

For feare, through want of skill, her beauty to disgrace ! 

So faire, and thousand thousand times more fair©. 
She seemd, when she presented was to sight ; 
And was yclad, for heat of scorching aire. 
All in a silken Camus lilly whight, 
Purfled upon with many a folded plight, 
"Which all above besprinckled was throughout 
With golden aygulets, that glistred bright, 
Like twinckling starres ; and all the skirt about 
Was hemd with golden fringe. 

Below her ham her weed did somewhat trayne. 

And her streight legs most bravely were embayld 

In gilden buskins of costly cordwayne, 

All i3ard with golden bendes, which were entayld 

With curious antickes, and full fayre aumayld. 

Before, th5y fastned were under her knee 

In a rich iewell, and therein entrayld ^ 

The ends of all the knots, that none might see 

How they within their fouldings close enwrapped bee 51 

Like two faire marble pillours they were scene, 

Which doe the temple of the gods support, 

Whom all the people decke with girlands greene. 

And honour in their festivall resort ; 

Those same with stately grace and princely port 

She taught to tread, when she herselfe would grace, 

But with the woody nymphes when she did play, 

Or when the flying libbard she did chace, 

She could them nimbly move, and after fly apace. 

And in her hand a sharp bore-speare she held, 
And at. her backe a bow and quiver gay, 
Stuft with steel-headed dartes wherewith she queld 
The salvage beastes in her victorious play. 
Knit with a golden bauldricke which forelay 
Athwart her snowy brest, and did divide 
Her daintie paps ; which, like young fruit in May, 
Now little gan to swell, and being tide 
Through her thin weed their places only signifide. 
8 



158 THE FAERIE QT7EENE. 

• 

Her yeUow lockes, crisped like golden wyre, 

About her slioulders weren loosely shed. 

And, when the wind emongst them did inspyre. 

They waved like a penon wyde dispred, 

And low behinde her backe were scattered : 

And, whether art it were or heedlesse hap, 

As through the flouring forrest rash she fled, 

In her rude heares sweet flowres themselves did lap, 

And flourishing fresh leaves and blossoms did enwrap. 

Such as Diana by the sandy shore 

Of swift Eurotas, or on Cynthus greene, 

Where all the nymphes have her unwares forlore, 

Wandreth alone with bow and arrowes keene, 

To seeke her game : or as that famous queene. 

Of Amazons, whom Pyrrhus did destroy. 

The day the first of Priame she was scene, 

Did shew herselfe in great triumphant ioy. 

To succour the weake state of sad afflicted Troy. 

Such when as hartlesse Trompart her did vew. 

He was dismayed in his coward minde. 

And doubted whether he himselfe should shew. 

Or fly away, or bide alone behinde ; 

Both feare and hope he in her face did finde : 

When she at last him spying thus bespake ; • 

" Hayle, groome ; didst not thou see a bleeding hynds 

Whose right haunch earst my stedfast arrow strake ? 

If thou didst, tell me, that I may her overtake." 

Wherewith revived, this answere forth he threw; 
" O goddesse, (for such I thee take to bee,) ' 
For nether doth thy face terrestriall shew, 
Nor voyce sound mortall ; I avow to thee, 
Such wounded beast, as that, I did not see, 
Sith earst into this forrest wild I came. 
IBut mote thy goodlyhed forgive it mee. 
To weete which of the gods I shall thee name. 
That unto thee dew worship I may rightly frame.*' 

To whom she thus—But ere her words ensewd, 

Unto the bush her eye did suddein glaunce, 

In which yaine Braggadocchio-was mewd. 

And saw it stirre : she lefte her percing launce. 

And towards gan a deadly shafte advaunce. 

In mind to marke the beast. At which sad stowre, 

Trompart forth stept, to stay the mortall chaunce, 

Out crying ; " O ! whatever hevenly powre, 

Or earthly wight thou be, withhold this deadly hoi^ re ! 



THE FAEEIE QUEEN E. 159 

*' O ! stay thy hand ; for yonder is no game 

For thy ners arrowes, them to exercize ; 

But loe ! my lord, my hege, whose warlike name 

Is far renowmd through many bold emprize ; 

And now in shade he shrowded yonder lies." 

She staid : with that he crauld out of his nest, 

Forth creeping on his caitive hands and thies ; 

And standing stoutly up his lofty crest 

Did fiercely shake, and rowze as comming late from rest. 

As fearfull fowle, that long in secret cave 

For dread of soring hauke herselfe hath hid, 

Not caring how, her silly life to save. 

She her gay painted plumes disorderid ; 

Seeing at last herselfe from daunger rid, 

Peeps forth, and soone renews her native pride; 

She gins her feathers fowle disfigured 

Prowdly to prune, and sett on every side ; 

So shakes off shame, ne thinks how erst she did her hide. 

So when her goodly visage he beheld. 
He gan himselfe to vaunt : but, when he vewd 
Those deadly tooles which in her hand she held 
Soone into other fitts he was trans mewd. 
Till she to him her gracious speach renewd ; 
" All haile, sir knight, and well may thee befall. 
As all the like, which honor have pursewd 
Through deeds of armes and prowesse martiall ! 
All vertue merits praise, but such the most of all.** 

To whom he thus ; " O fairest imder skie, 

Trew be thy words, and worthy of thy praise. 

That warlike feats doest highest glorifie. 

Therein I have spent all my youthly daies. 

And many battades fought and many fraies 

Throughout the world, wherso they might be found, 

Endevoring my dreaded name to raise 

Above the moone, that Fame may it resound 

In her eternall trompe with laurell girlond cround. 

*' But what art thou, O lady, which doest raunge 
In this wilde forest, where no pleasure is, 
And doest not it for ioyous court exchaunge, 
Emongst thine equall peres, where happy blis 
And all delight does raigne much more then this P 
There thou maist love, and dearly loved be, 
And swim in pleasure, which thou here doest mis ; 
Tiiere maist thou best be scene, and best maist sec : 
Tiie wood ia fit for beasts, the court is fitt for thee." 



160 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

*' Whoso in pompe of prowd estate," quoth she, 

" Does swim, and bathes himselfe in courtly bhs. 

Does waste his daies in darke obscuritee, 

And in obUvion ever buried is : 

Where ease abownds, yt's eath to doe amis : 

But who his Hmbs with labours, and his mynd 

Behaves with cares, cannot so easy mis. 

Abroad in armes, at home in studious kjmd, 

Who seekes with painfull toile, shall Honor soonest fynd : 

" In woods, in waves, in warres, she wonts to dwell, 

And wil be found with perill and with paine ; 

JN'e can the man, that moulds in ydle cell, 

Unto her happy mansion attaine : 

Before her gate High God did Sweate ordaine. 

And wakefuLl Watches ever to abide : 

But easy is the way and passage plaine 

To Pleasures pallace ; it may soone be spide, 

And day and night her dores to all stand open wide. 

" In Princes Court" — The rest she would have sayd. 
But that the fooHsh man, (fild T\ith delight 
Of her sweete words that all his sence dismayd. 
And with her wondrous beauty ravisht quight,) 
Gan burne in filthy lust ; and, leaping hght, 
Thought in his bastard armes her to embrace.^ 
With that she, swarving backe, her iavelin bright 
Against him bent, and fiercely did menace : 
So turned her about, and fled away apace. 

Which when the pesaunt saw, amazd he stood, 

And grieved at her flight ; yet durst he not 

Pursew her steps through wild unknowen wood ; 

Besides he feard her wrath, and threatned shott, 

Whiles in the bush he lay, not yet forgott : 

ISTe car'd he greatly for her presence vaj^ne, 

But turning said to Trompart ; " What fowle blott 

Is this to knight, that lady should agayne 

Depart to woods untoucht, and leave so proud disdayne !" 

" Perdy," said Trompart, " lett her pas at will. 

Least by her presence daunger mote befall. 

Por who can tell (and sure I feare it ill) 

But that shee is some powre celestiall ? 

For, whiles she spake, her great words did appall 

My feeble corage, and my heart oppresse. 

That yet I quake and tremble over all." 

" And I," said Braggadocchio, " thought no lesse, 

When first I heard her horn sound with such ghastlinessa 



THE FAESIE QUEENE. IGl 

" For from my motliers wombe this grace I have 

Me given by eternall destiny, 

Tbat earthly thing may not my corage brave 

Dismay with feare, or cause one foote to flye. 

But either helhsh feends, or powres on hye : 

Which was the cause, when earst that horn I heard. 

Weening it had been thunder in the skye, 

I hid my selfe from it as one affeard ; 

But^ when I other knew, my self I boldly reard. 

" But now, for feare of worse that may betide. 

Let us soone hence depart." They soone agree : 

So to his steed he gott, and gan to ride 

As one unfitt therefore, that all might see 

He had not trayned bene in chevalree. 

Which well that valiaunt courser did discerne 5 

Por he despisd to tread in dew degree. 

But chaufd and fom'd with corage fiers and steme. 

And to be easd of that base burden still did erne, • 



CANTO IV. 

Guyon does Furor bind in chaines^ 

And stops Occasion : 
Delivers Phedon, and tlierefore 

By Strife is rayld uppon. 

In brave poursuitt of honorable deed. 

There is I know not what great dijQferenco 

Betweene the vulgar and the noble seed. 

Which unto things of valorous pretence 

Seemes to be borne by native influence ; 

As feates of armes ; and love to entertaine : 

But chiefly skill to ride seemes a science 

Proper to gentle blood : some others faine 

To menage steeds, as did this vaunter ; but in vaine. 

But he, the rightfull owner of that steede. 

Who well could menage and subdew his pride, 

The whiles on foot was forced for to yecd 

With that blacke palmer, his most trusty guide, 

Who suffred not his wandring feete to slide ; 

But when strong passion, or weake fleshlinesse, ^ 

Would from the right way sceke to draw him wide, 

He would, through temperaunce and stedfastnesse, 

Teach him the weak to strengthen, and the strong suppresso. 



162 THE FAEEIE QUEENB» 

It fortuned, forth faring on his way, 
He saw from far, or seemed for to see. 
Some troublous uprore or contentious fray, 
"Wliereto he drew in hast it to agree. 
A mad man, or that feigned mad to bee, 
Drew by the heare along upon the grownd 
A handsom stripling with great crueltee, 
Whom sore he bett, and gor'd with many^ a wownd, 
That cheekes with teares, and sydes with blood, did all 
abownd. 

And him behynd a wicked hag did stalke 

In ragged robes and filthy disaray; 

Her other leg was lame, that she no'te walke, 

But on a staffe her feeble steps did stay: 

Her lockes, that loathly were and hoarie gray. 

Grew all afore, and loosly hong unrold ; 

But all behinde was bald, and worne away. 

That none thereof could ever taken hold ; 

And eke her face ill-fayour'd, full of wrinckles old. 

And, ever as she went, her toung did walke 

In fowle reproch and termes of vile despight, 

Provoking him, by her outrageous talke, 

To heape more vengeance on that wretched wight ; 

Sometimes she raught him stones, wherewith to smit, 

Sometimes her staffe, though it her one leg were, 

Withouten which she could not goe upright ; 

ISe any evil meanes she did forbeare, 

That might him move to wrath, and indignation reare. 

The noble Guyon, mov'd with great remorse 

Appro chin g, first the hag did thrust away ; 

And after, adding more impetuous forse, 

His mighty hands did on the madman lay, 

And pluckt him backe ; who, all on fire streightway 

Asrainst him turning all his fell intent, 

"VYith beastly brutish rage gan him assay. 

And smott, and bitt, and kickt, and scratcht, and rent, 

And did he wist not what in his avengement. 

And sure he was a man of mickle might, 

Had he had governaunce it well to guyde : 

But, when the frantick fittinflamd his spright, 

His force was vaine, and strooke more often wyde 

Then at the ajTned marke which he had eyde : 

And oft himselfe he chaunst to hurt un wares, 

Whylest reason, blent through passion, nought de?cryde ; 

But, as a bhndfold bull, at random fares, [nought cares. 

And where lie hits nought knowes, and whom he hurts 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 163 

His rude assault and rugged liandeling 

Straunge seemed to tlie knight, that aye with foe 

In fsLjre defence and goodly menaging 

Of armes was wont to fight ; yet nathemoe 

Was he abashed now, not fighting so ; 

But, more enfierced through his currish play. 

Him sternly grypt, and, hailing to and fro. 

To overthrow him strongly did assay. 

But overthrew himselfe unawares, and lower lay; 

And being downe the villein sore^ did beate 

And bruze with clownish fistes his manly facoi 

And eke the hag, with many a bitter threat, 

Stni cald upon to kill him in the place. 

With whose reproch, and odious menace. 

The knight emboyling in his haughtie hart 

Knitt all his forces, and^ gan soone unbrace 

His grasping hold : so lightly did upstart. 

And drew his deadly weapon to maintaine his part. 

Which when the palmer saw, he loudly cryde, 

'* IN'ot so, O Guyon, never thinke that so 

That monster can be maistred or destroyd: 

He is not, ah ! he is not such a foe, 

As Steele can wounde, or strength can overthroe. 

That same is Furor, cursed cruel wight, 

That unto knighthood workes much shame and woes 

And that same Hag, his aged mother, hight. 

Occasion; the roote of all wrath and despight. 

** With her, whoso will raging Euror tame. 

Must first begin, and well her amenage : 

First her restraine from her reprochfull blame 

And evill meanes, with which she doth enrage 

Her frantick sonne, and kindles his corage; 

Then, when she is withdrawne or strong withstood. 

It's eath his ydle fury to aswage. 

And calme the tempest of his passion wood : 

The bankes are overflowne when stopped is the flood." 

Therewith Sir Guyon left his first emprise, 
And, turning to that woman, fast her hent 
By the hoare lockes that hong before her eyes, 
And to the ground her threw : yet n'ould she stent 
Her bitter rayling and foule revilement; 
But stni provokt her sonne to wreake her wrong ; 
But nathelesse he did her still torment, 
And, catching hold of her ungratious tong. 
Thereon an yron lock did jfasten firmo and strong. 



164 THE FAEETE QUEENE. 

Tlien, wtenag use of speacli was from lier reft, 
With her two crooked handes she sigaes did make, 
And beckned him ; the last help she had left : 
But he that last left helpe away did take, 
And both her handes fast bound unto a stake, 
That she no'te stirre. Then gan her sonne to flye 
Full fast away, and did her quite forsake : 
But Guyon after him in hast did hye. 
And soone him overfcooke in sad perplexitye. 

In his strong armes he stifly him embraste, 
Who him gain-striving nought at all prevaild j 
Tor all his power was utterly defaste, 
And furious fitts at earst quite weren quaild: 
Oft he re'nforst, and oft his forces fayld, 
Yet yield he would not, nor his rancor slacke. 
Then him to ground he cast, and rudely hay Id, 
And both his hands fast bound behind his backe, 
And both his feet in fetters to an yron racke. 

"With hundred yron chaines he did him bind, ^ 
And hundred knots, that did him SQre constraine : 
Yet his great yron teeth he still did grind 
And grimly gnash, threatning revenge in vaine : 
His burning eyen, whom bloody strakes did staine, 
Stared full wide, and threw forth sparkes of fyre ; 
And, more for rank despight then for great paine, 
Shakt his long locks colourd like copper- wyre. 
And bitt his tawny beard to shew his raging yre. 

Thus whenas Guyon Furor had captivd, 

Turning about he saw that wretched squyre. 

Whom that mad man of life nigh late deprivd, 

Lying on ground, all soild with blood and myre : 

Whom whenas he perceived to respyre, 

He gan to comfort, and his woundes to dresse. 

Being at last recured, he gan inquyre 

What hard mishap him brought to such distresse. 

And made that caytives thrall, the thrall of wretchednesse 

With hart then throbbing, and with watry eyes, 
" Fayre sir," quoth he, " what man can shun the hap 
That hidden lyes unwares him to surpryse ? 
Misfortune waites advantage to entrap 
The man most wary in her whelming lap. 
So me, weake "^Tetch, of many weakest one, 
Unweeting and unware of such mishap. 
She brought to mischiefe through occasion. 
Where this same wicked villein did me light upon. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 165 

" It was a faithelesse squire, that was the sourso 
Of all my sorrow and of these sad teares, 
With whom from tender dug of commune noiirso 
Attonce I was upbrought ; and eft, when yeares 
More rype us reason lent to chose our peares, 
Ourselves in league of vowed love we knitt; 
In which we long time, without gcalous feares 
Or faultie thoughts, contynewd as was litt ; 
And, for my part I vow, dissembled not a whitt. 

" It was my fortune, commune to that age. 

To love a lady fayre of great degree, 

The which was borne of noble parentage. 

And set in highest seat of dignitee. 

Yet secmd no lesse to love then lovd to bee : 

Long I her scrv'd, and found her laiLhfidl still, 

JN'e ever thing could cause us disagree : 

Love, that two hartcs makes one, makes eke one avIII: 

Each strove to please, and others pleasures to luliill. 

** My friend, liight Philemon, I did partako 

Of all my love and all my privitie; 

Who gently ioyous seemed for my sake. 

And gratious to that lady, as to mee ; 

Ne ever wight, that mote so welcome bee 

As he to her, withouten blott or blame; 

!Ne ever thing, that she could think or see, 

But unto him she would impart the same : 

O wretched man, that would abuse so gentle dame ! 

" At last such grace I found, and meanes I wrought, 
That I that lady to my spouse had wonne ; 
Accord of friondes, consent of parents sought, 
Aliyaunce made, my happincsse bcgoiuie. 
There wanted nought but few rites to be donno, 
Which mariage make : that day too farre did seemo I 
Most ioyous man, on whome the shining sunne 
Did shew his face, myself I did esteeme. 
And that my falser friend did no lesse ioyous deeme, 

** But, ere that wished day his beamo disclosd. 

He, either envying my toward good. 

Or of himsclfe to treason ill disposd, 

One day imto me came in iViendly mood. 

And told, for secret, how he understood 

That lady, whom I had to me assynd, 

Had both dislaind her honorable blood, 

And eke the faith which she to me did bynd; 

And thercforo wisht mo slay, till I my truth should fyncL 



166 THE FAERIE QTJEENB, 

" Tlie gnawing* anguisli, and sliarp gelosy, 
Wliicli liis sad speacli infixed in my brest, 
Kanckled so sore, and festred inwardly, 
That my engreeved mind could find no rest. 
Till that the truth thereof I did out wrest; 
And him besought, by that same sacred band 
Betwixt us both, to counsell me the best : 
He then with, solemne oath and plighted hand 
Assurd, ere long the truth to let me understand. 

" Ere long with like againe he boorded mee, 
Saying, he now liad boulted all the floure. 
And that it was a groome of base degree, 
Which of my love was i^artner paramoure: 
Who used in a darksome inner bowre 
Her oft to meete : which better to approve, 
He promised to bring me at that howre, 
AYhen I should see that would me nearer move, 
And drive me to withdraw my blind abused love. 

" This gracelesse man, for furtherance of kis guile, 

Did court the handmayd of my lady deare, 

WHio, glad t' embosome his affection vile. 

Did all she might more pleasing to appeare.' 

One day, to worke her to his will more neare, 

He woo'd her thus ; ' Pryene,' (so she hight,) 

* Wbat great despight does fortune to thee beare. 

Thus lowly to abase thy beautie bright. 

That it should not deface all others lesser light ? 

** ' Eut if she had her least helpe to thee lent, 

T' adorne thy forme according thy desart, 

Their blazing pride thou wouldest soone have blent. 

And staynd their prayses with thy least good part j 

Ne should faire Claribell with all her art, 

Tho' she thy lady be, approch thee neare : 

Por proofe thereof, this evening, as thou art, 

Aray thyselfe in her most gorgeous geare, 

That I may more dehght in thy embracement deare. 

" The mayden proud through praise and mad through love 

Him hearkned to, and soone herselfe arayd ; 

The whiles to me the treachour did remove 

His craftie engin: and, as he had sayd. 

Me leading, in a secret corner layd, 

The sad spectatour of my tragedie : 

Wliere left, he went, and his owne false part playd. 

Disguised like that groome of base degree. 

Whom he had feignd th' abuser of my love to bee. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 167 

"Eftsoones he came nnto th' appointed place. 

And with, him brought Pryene, rich arayd; 

In Claribellaes clothes : her proper face 

I not discerned in that darkesome shade, 

But weend it was my love with whom he playd. 

Ah God ! what horrour and tormenting griefe 

My hart, my handes, mine eies, and all assayd ! 

Me liefer were ten thousand deathes priefe 

Then wounde of gealous worme, and shame of such repriefe> 

" I home retourning, fraught with fowle despight, 

And chawing vengeaunce all the way I went 

Soone as my loathed love appear d in sight. 

With wrathfull hand I slew her innocent; 

That after soone I dearely did lament: 

Por, when the cause of that outrageous deede 

Demaunded I made plaine and evident. 

Her faultie handmayd, which that bale did breede, 

Confest how Philemon her wrought to chaunge her weede. 

" Which when I heard, with horrible affright 

And helhsh fury all enragd, I sought 

Upon myselfe that vengeable despight 

To punish : yet it better first I thought 

To wreake my wrath on him, that first it wrought; 

To Philemon, .false fatour Philemon, 

I cast to pay that I so dearely bought : 

Of deadly drugs I gave him drinke anon, 

And washt away his guilt with guilty potion. 

" Thus heaping crime on crime, and griefe on griefe. 

To losse of love adioyning losse of frend, 

I meant to purge both with a third mischiefe, 

And in my woes beginner it to end: 

That was Pryene ; she did first offend, 

She last should smart: with which cruell intent. 

When I at her my murdrous blade did bend. 

She fled away with ghastly dreriment, 

And I, poursewing my fell purpose, after went, 

"Feare gave her winges, and Eage enforst my flight; 

Through woods and plaines so long I did her chace. 

Till this mad man, whom your victorious might 

Hath now fast bound, me met in middle space : 

As I her, so he me pours ewd apace. 

And shortly overtooke : I, breathing yre. 

Sore chauiied at my stay in such a cace. 

And with my heat kindled his cruell fyro ; 

Which kindled once, his mother did more rage inspyre. 



J 68 TnE PAEEIE QXJEENE. 

" Betwixt tliem both tkey have me goen to dye, 

Through wounds, and strokes, and stubborne haiidcling, 

That death were better then such agony, 

As griefe and fury unto me did brmg ; 

Of which in me yet stickes the mortall sting, 

That during life will never be appeasd !'* 

When he thus ended had his sorrowing, 

Said Guyon; " Squyre, sore have ye beene diseasd; 

But all your hurts may soone through temperance be easd." 

Then gan the palmer thus ; " Most wretched man, 

That to Affections does the bridle lend ! 

In their beginning they are weake and wan. 

But soone through suff'rance growe to fearefull end; 

Whiles they are weake, betimes with them contend ; 

[For, w^hen they once to perfect strength do grow, 

Strong warres they make, and cruell battry bend 

Gainst fort of Reason, it to overthrow: 

Wrath, Gelosy, Griefe, Love, this squyre have laido tlius low. 

" Wrath, Gealosie, Griefe, Love, do thus expeU : 

Wrath is a fire'; and Gealosie a weede; 

Griefe is a flood; and Love a monster fell; 

The fire of sparkes, the weede of little seede, 

The flood of drops, the monster filth did breede: 

But sparks, seed, drops, and filth, do thus delay; 

The sparks soone quench, the springing seed outwced. 

The drops dry up, and filth wipe cleane away : 

So shall Wrath, Gealosy, Griefe, Love, die and decay." 

"Unlucky squire," saide Guyon, "sith thou hast 
Falne into mischiefe through intemperaunce, 
Henceforth take heede of that thou now hast past. 
And guyde thy waies with warie governaunce, 
Least worse betide thee by some later chaunce. 
But read how art thou nam'd, and of what kin." 
"Phedon I hight," quoth he, "and do advaunce 
Mine auncestry from famous Coradin, 
Who first to rayse our house to honour did begin.*' 

Thus as he spake, lo ! far away they spyde 

A varlet ronning towardes hastily. 

Whose fljdng feet so fast their way applyde, 

That round about a cloud of dust did fly. 

Which, mingled all with sweate, did dim his eye. 

He soone approched, panting, breathlesse, whot, 

And aU. so soyld, that none could him descry; 

His countenaunce was bold, and bashed not 

For Guyons lookes, but scornefuU ey-glaunce at him shot. 



THE FAEBIE QTJEENE. 1G9 

Beliinde his backe lie bore a brasen shield, 

On which was drawen faire, in colours fit, 

A flaming fire in midst of bloody field. 

And round about the wreath this word was writ, 

Burnt 'I doe hurne : Eight well beseemed it 

To be the shield of some redoubted knight: 

And in his hand two.dartes exceeding fiit 

And deadly sharp he held, whose heads were dight 

In poyson and in blood of malice and despight. 

When he in presence came, to Guyon first 

He boldly spake; " Sir knight, if knight thou bee. 

Abandon this forestalled place at erst, 

For feare of further harme, I counsell thee; 

Or bide the chaimce at thine owne ieopardee." 

The knight at his great boldnesse wondered; 

And, though he scorn'd his ydle vanitee. 

Yet mildly him to purpose answered; 

For not to grow of nought he it coniecturedi 

" Varlet, this place most dew to me I deeme, 

Yielded by him that held it forcibly: 

But whence shold come that harme, which thou dost secme 

To threat to him that mindes his chaunce t'abye P" 

" Perdy," sayd he, " here comes, and is hard by, 

A knight of wondrous powre and great assay, 

That never yet encountred enemy, 

But did him deadly daunt, or fowle dismay; 

ISTe thou for better hope, if thou his presence stay," 

" How hight he,'* then sayd Guyon, "and from whence ?'*. 

** Pyrochlcs is his name, renowmed farre 

For his bold feates and hardy confidence. 

Full oft approvd in many a cruell warre; 

The brother of Cymochles; both which arre 

The sonnes of old Aerates and Despight; 

Aerates, sonne of Phlegeton and larre; 

But Phlegeton is sonne of Herebus and Night 

But Herebus sonne of Aeternitie is hight. 

" So from immortall race he does proceede. 
That mortall hands may not withstand his mighty 
Drad for his derring doe and bloody deed; 
For all in blood and spoile is his delight. 
His am I Atio, his in wrong and right. 
That matter make for him to worke upon. 
And stirre him up to strife and cruell fight. 
Fly therefore, fly this fcarefull stead anon. 
Least thy foolhardize worke thy sad confusion," 



iro THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

" His be that care, wliom most it dotli concerne,* 
Sayd lie : " but whether with such hasty llii^ht 
Art thou now bownd ? for well mote I discerrie 
Great cause, that carries thee so swifte and light." 
" My lord," quoth he, ''me sent, and streight bchight 
To seeke Occasion, where so she bee : 
For he is all disposd to bloody fight. 
And breathes out wrath and hainous crueltee ; 
Hard is his hap, that first fals in his ieopardee." 

"Mad man," said then the palmer, "that does seeke 

Occasion to wrath, and cause of strife ; 

Shee comes unsought, and shonned followes eke. 

Happy ! who can abstaine, when Kancor rife 

Kindles 'Revenge, and threats his rusty knife : 

Woe never wants, where every cause is caught ; 

And rash Occasion makes unquiet life !" 

" Then loe ! wher bound she sits, whom thou hast sought,*' 

Said Guyon; "let that message to thy lord be brought." 

That when the varlett heard and saw, streightway 
He wexed wondrous wroth, and said; " Yile knight, 
That knights and knighthood doest with shame upbray, 
And shewst th' ensample of thy childishe might. 
With silly weake old woman thus to fight ! 
Great glory and gay spoile sure hast thou gott, 
And stoutly prov'd thy puissaunce here in sight ! 
That shall Pyrochles well requite, I wott. 
And with thy blood abohsh so reprochfull blott." 

* With that, one of his thrillant darts he threw. 
Headed with yre and vengeable despight: 
The quivering Steele his aymed end wel knew, 
And to his brest itselfe intended rights 
But he was wary, and, ere it empight 
In the meant marke, advaunst his shield atween, 
On which it seizing no way enter might, 
But backe rebownding eft the forckhead keene : 
Eftsoones he fled awayt aud might no where be geene* 



IHE TAEKIE QXTEENB. 171 



CANTO V. 



Pyrochles does with Guyon fight. 

And Furors chayne untyes. 
Who him sore wounds ; whiles Atin tO 

Cymochles for ayd flyes. 

Whoever dotli to Temperaunce apply 

His stedfast life, and all his actions frame, 

Trust me, shal find no greater enimy, 

Then stubborne Perturbation, to the same ; 

To which right wel the wise doe give that name^ 

For it the goodly peace of staied mindes 

Does overthrow, and troublous warre proclame: 

His owne woes author, who so bound it findes. 

As did Pyrochles, and it wilfully unbindes. 

After that varlets flight, it was not long 

Ere on the plaine fast pricking Guyon spide 

One in bright armes embatteiled full strong, ^ 

That, as the sunny beames do glaunce and glide 

Upon the trembling wave, so shined bright. 

And round about him threw forth sparkling fire. 

That seemd him to enflame on every side : 

His steed was bloody red, and fomed yre, 

When with the maistring spur he did him roughly stire. 

Approching nigh, he never staid to grecte, 

Ne chaffar words, prowd corage to provoke, 

But prickt so fiers, that underneath his feete 

The smouldring dust did rownd about him smoke, 

Both horse and man nigh able for to choke ; 

And, fayrly couching his steeleheaded speare. 

Him first saluted with a sturdy stroke : 

It booted not sir Guyon, comming neare, 

To thincke such hideous puissaunce on foot to beare; 

But lightly shunned it; and passing by. 

With his ioright blade did smite at him so fell. 

That the sharpe Steele, arriving forcibly ^ 

On his broad shield, bitt not, but glauncing fell 

On his horse necke before the quilted sell. 

And froni the head the body sundred quight: 

So him dismounted low he did compell 

On foot with him to matchcn equall fight; 

The truncked beast fast bleeding did liim fowly dight. 



172 THE FAEBIB QTJES58. 

Sore bmzed \rith the fall he slow uprose. 

And all enraged thus him loudly shent ; 

" Disleall knight, whose coward corage chose 

To wreake itselfe on beast all innocent, 

And shund the marke at which it should be ment : 

Therby thine armes seem strong, but manhood frayl: 

So hast thou oft with guile thine honor blent. 

But htle may such guile thee now avayl, 

If wonted force and fortune doe me not much fayL'* 

With that he drew his flaming sword, and strooke 

At him so fiercely, that the upper marge 

Of his sevenfolded shield away it tooke. 

And, glauncing on his hehnet, made a large 

And open gash therein : were not his targe 

That broke the violence of his intent. 

The weary sowle from thence it would discharge 5 

IS'athelesse so sore a buff to him it lent. 

That made him reele, and to his brest his bever bent^ 

Exceeding wroth was Guyon at that blow. 
And much ashamd that stroke of living arme 
Should him dismay, and make him stoup so low. 
Though otherwise it did him Htle harme: 
Tho, hurling high his yron-braced arme, 
He smote so manly on his shoulder plate. 
That all his left side it did quite disarme; 
Yet there the steel stayd not, but inly bate 
Deepe in his flesh, and opened wide a red floodgate. 

Peadly dismayd with horror of that dint 
Pyrochles was, and grieved eke entyre ; 
Tet nathemore did it his fury stint, 
[But added flame unto his former fire. 
That wel-nigh molt his hart in raging yre : 
Is'e thenceforth his approved skill, to ward. 
Or strike, or hurtle rownd in warlike gyre, 
IRemembred he, ne car'd for his saufgard. 
But rudely rag'd, and like a cruell tygre far'A 

He hewd, and lasht, and foynd, and thondred blowes. 
And every way did seeke into his life ; 
Ke plate, ne male, could ward so mighty throwes, 
But yielded passage to his cruell knife. 
But Guyon, in the heat of all his strife, 
TVas wary wise, and closely did awayt 
Avauntage, whilest his foe did rage most rife ; 
Sometimes athwart, sometimes he strook him strajrt^ 
And faked oft his blowes t'illude him with such bajt» 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 173 

Like as a lyon whose imperiall powre 

A prowd rebellious unicorn defyes, 

X' avoide tlie rash assault and wrathful stowre 

Of his fiers foe, him to a tree applyes, 

And when him ronning in full course he spyes, 

He slips aside; the whiles that furious beast 

His precious home, sought of his enimyes, 

Strikes in the stocke, ne thence can be releast, 

But to the mighty victor yields a bounteous feast. 

With such faire sleight him Guyon often fayld 

Till at the last all breathlesse, weary, faint, 

Him spying, with fresh onsett he assayld, ^ 

And, kindling new his corage seeming queint, 

Strooke him so hugely, that through great constraint 

He made him stoup perforce unto his knee. 

And doe unwilling worship to the saint, 

That on his shield depainted he did see ; 

Such homage till that instant never learned hee. 

Whom Guyon seeing stoup, poursewed fast 

The present offer of faire victory. 

And soone his dreadfuU blade about he cast, 

Wherewith he smote his haughty crest so hye. 

That streight on grownd made him full low to lye; 

Then on his brest his victor foOte he thrust : 

With that he cryde; " Mercy, doe me not dye, 

Ne deeme thy force by fortunes doome uniust, 

That hath (maugre her spight) thus low me laid in dust.** 

Eftsoones his cruel hand Sir Guyon stayd, 
Tempring the passion with advizement slow 
And maistring might on enimy dismayd; 
For th' equall die of warre he well did know: 
Then to him said: " Live, and alleagaunce owe 
To him, that gives thee life and liberty ; 
And henceforth by this dales ensample trow. 
That hasty wroth, and heedlesse hazardry, 
Doe breede repentaunce late, and lasting infamy,*' 

So up he let him rise; who, with grim looke 

And count'naunce sterne upstanding, gan to grind 

His grated teeth for great disdeigne, and shooko 

His sandy lockes, long hanging downe behind, 

Knotted in blood and dust, for grief of mind 

That he in ods of armes was conquered; 

Yet in himselfe some comfort he did find, 

That him so noble knight had maystercd ; 

Whose bounty more then might, yet both, he wondered. 



174 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

WMcIl Guyon marking said; " Be noiiglit agnev'd^ 
Sir knight, that thus ye now subdewed arre : 
Was never man, who most conquestes atchiev'd, 
But sometimes had the worse, and lost by warrej 
Yet shortly gaynd, that losse exceeded farre; 
Losse is no shame, nor to bee lesse then foe; 
But to bee lesser then himselfe doth marre 
Both loosers lott, and victour's prayse alsoe : 
Yaine others overthrowes who selfe doth overthrow. 

" Fly, O Pyrocliles, fly the dreadful warre 
That in thyselfe thy lesser partes do move; 
Outrageous Anger, and woe-working larre, 
Direfull Impatience, and hart-murdring Love: 
Those, those thy foes, those warriours, far remove. 
Which thee to endlesse bale captived lead. 
But, sith in might thou didst my mercy prove. 
Of courtesie to mee the cause aread 
That thee against me drew with so impetuous dread.** 

" Dreadlesse," said he, '* that shall I soone declare: 
It was complaind that thou hadst done great tort 
Unto an aged woman, poore and bare. 
And thralled her in chaines with strong effort, 
Yoide of all succour and needfull comfort: 
That ill beseemes thee, such as I thee see. 
To worke such shame: therefore I thee exhort 
To chaunge thy will, and set Occasion free. 
And to her captive sonne yield his first libertee.*' 

Thereat Sir Guyon smylde ; " And is that all/* 
Said he, "that thee so sore displeased hath? 
Great mercy sure, for to enlarge a thrall. 
Whose freedom shall thee turne to greatest scath! 
Nathlesse now quench thy whott emboyling wrath: 
Loe ! there they bee; to thee I yield them free.'* 
Thereat he, wondrous glad, out of the path 
Did hghtly leape, where he them bound did see,; 
And gan to breake the bands of their captivitee. 

Soone as Occasion felt her selfe iintyde. 

Before her sonne could well assqyled bee. 

She to her use returnd, and streight defyde 

Both Guyon and Pyrochles ; th' one (said shee) 

By cause he wonne ; the other, because hee 

Was wonne : so matter did she make of nought. 

To stirre up strife, and garre them disagree : 

But, soone as Furor was enlargd, she sought 

To kindle bis quencht fyre, and thousand causes wrought, 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 175 

It was not long ere she inflam'd him so. 

That he would algates with Pyrochles fight. 

And his redeemer chalengd for his foe, 

Because he had not well mainteind his right, 

But yielded had to that same straunger knight, 

JSTow gan Pyrochles wex as wood as hee, 

And him affronted with impatient might : 

So both together fiers engrasped bee, 

Whyles Guy on standing by their uncouth strife does see. 

Him all that while Occasion did provoke 
Against Pyrochles, and new matter fram'd 
Upon the old, him stirring to bee wroke 
Of his late wronges, in which she oft him blam'd 
Por suffering such abuse as knighthood sham'd. 
And him dishabled quyte : but he was wise, 
l^e would with vaine occasions be inflam'd; 
Yet others she more urgent did devise : 
Yet nothing could him to impatience entise. 

Their fell contention still increased more. 

And more thereby increased Purors might. 

That he his foe has hurt and wounded sore 

And him in blood and durt deformed quight. 

His mother eke, more to augment his spight, 

Now brought to him a flaming fyer-brond. 

Which she in Stygian lake, ay burning bright. 

Had kindled : that she gave into his hond. 

That armd with fire more hardly he mote him wi lb si end. 

Tho gan that viUein wex so fiers and strong, 

That nothing might sustaine his furious forse: 

He cast him downe to ground, and all along 

Drew him through durt and myre without remorse. 

And fowly battered his comely corse, 

That Guyon much disdeignd so loathly sight. 

At last he was compeld to cry perforse, 

" Help, O Sir Guyon ! helpe, most noble knight, 

To ridd a wretched man from handes of hellish ^vigllt P 

The knight was greatly moved at his playnt, 

And gan him dight to succour his distresse, 

Till that the palmer, by his grave restraynt, 

Him stayd from yielding pittifull redresse. 

And said ; " Deare sonne, thy causelesse ruth rcpresst^ 

Ne let thy stout hart melt in pitty vayne: 

He that his sorrow sought through wilfulnesse, 

And his foe fettred would release agayne. 

Deserves to taste his foUies fruit, repented payno." 



176 THE FAERIE QUEENB. 

Guyon obayd: so liim away lie drew 
JFrom needlesse trouble of renewing fight 
Already fought, his voyage to poursew. 
IBut rash Pyrochles varlett, Atin higlit. 
When late he saw his lord in heavie plight. 
Under SirGuyons puissaunt stroke to fall, 
Him deeming dead, as then he seemd in sight, 
Medd fast away to tell his funerall 
Unto his brother, whom Cymochles men did call. 

He was a man of rare redoubted might, 
Famous throughout the world for warlike praj^s^ 
And glorious spoiles, purchast in perilous fight: 
Pull many doughtie knightes he in his dayes 
Had doen to death, subdewde in equall frayes; 
Whose carkases, for terrour of his name, 
Of fowles and beastes he made the piteous prayes. 
And hong their conquerd armes for more defame 
On gallow trees, in honour of his dearest dame. 

His dearest dame is that enchaunteresse. 

The vyle Acrasia, that with vaine delicrhtes. 

And ydle pleasures, in her Bowre of Biisse, 

Does charme her lorers, and the feeble sprightes 

Can call out of the bodies of fraile wightes; 

Whom then she does transforme to monstrous hewes 

And horribly misshapes with ugly sightes, 

Captiv'd eternally in yron mewes 

And darksom dens, where Titan his face never shcwcs. 

There Atin fownd Cymochles soiourning. 

To serve his lemans love ; for he by kynd 

Was given all to lust and loose living. 

Whenever his fiers handes he free mote fynd: 

And now he has pourd out his ydle mynd 

In daintie dehces and lavish ioyes, 

Having his warlike weapons cast behynd. 

And flowes in pleasures and vaine pleasing toyes, 

Mingled emongst loose ladies and lascivious boyca. 

And over him Art, stryving to compajrre 

With Nature, did an arber greene dispred, 

Pramed of Avanton yvie, flouring fayre, 

Through which the fragrant eglantine did sprcd 

His priclding armes, entrayld with roses red. 

Which daintie odours round about them threw : 

And all within with flowres was garnished, 

That, when my Id Zephyrus emongst them blew. 

Did breath out bounteous smels, and painted colors shev7. 



THE TAEEIE QTTEENE. 17? 

And fast beside tliere trickled softly down© ^ 

A gentle streame, whose murmuring wave did play 

Emongst the pumy stones, and made a sowne. 

To luU him soft asleep e that by it lay: 

The wearie traveiler, wandring that way. 

Therein did often quench his thirsty heat, 

And then by it his wearie limbes display, 

(Whiles creeping slomber made him to forget 

His former payne,) and wypt away his toilsom sweat. 

And on the other syde a pleasaunt grove 

Was shott up high, full of the stately treo 

That dedicated is t' Olympick love. 

And to his sonne Alcides, whenas heo 

In Nemea gayned goodly victoree : 

Therein the mery birdes of every sorte 

Chaunted alowd their chearefull harmonee, 

And made emongst themselves a sweete consort. 

That quickned the dull spright with musicall comfort. 

There he him found all carelesly displaid. 

In secrete shadow from the sunny ray. 

On a sweet bed of lillies softly laid. 

Amidst a flock of damzelles fresh and gay. 

That rownd about him dissolute did play 

Their wanton follies and light meriment j 

Every of which did loosely disaray 

Her upper partes of meet habiliments. 

And shewd them naked, deckt with many ornaments. 

And every of them strove with most delights 
Him to aggrate, and greatest pleasures shew : 
Some framd faire lookes, glancing like evening lights ; 
Others sweet wordes, dropping like honny dew; 
Some bathed kisses, and did soft embrew 
The sugred'licour through his melting lips. 
One boastes her beautie, and does yield to vew 
Her daintie Hmbes above her tender hips : 
Another her out boastes, and all for tryall strips. 

He, like an adder lurking in the weedes, 

His wandring thought in deepe desire does steepe. 

And his frayle eye with spoyle of beauty feedes : 

Sometimes he falsely faines himselfe to sleepe, 

Whiles through their lids his wanton eies do pecpe 

To steale a snatch of amorous conceipt. 

Whereby close fire into his hart does creepe : 

So' he them deceives, deceivd in his deceipt. 

Made dronke with drugs of deare voluptuous receipt. 



178 THE FAEEIE QTTEENB. 

Atin, arrivin<]j there, when Mm he spyde 
Thus in still waves of deepe delight to wade, 
[Fiercely approching to him lowdly cryde, 
" Cymochles ^ oh ! no, but Cymochles shade, 
In which that manly person late did fade ! 
What is become of great Aerates sonne ? 
Or where hath he hong up his mortall blade. 
That hath so many haughty conquests wonne ? 
Is all his force forlorne, and all his glory donne ?" 

Then, pricking him with his sharp-pointed dart. 
He said: "Up, up, thou womanish weake knight. 
That here in ladies lap entombed art, 
Unmindfull of thy praise and prowest might, 
And weetlesse eke of lately- wrought despight ; 
"Whiles sad Pyrocles lies on sencelesse ground. 
And groneth out his utmost grudging spright 
Through many a stroke and many a streaming wound. 
Calling thy help in vaine, that here in ioyes art dround." 

Suddeinly out of his delightfull dreame 

The man awoke, and would have questiond more; 

But he would not endure that wofull theame 

!For to dilate at large, but urged sore, 

"With percing wordes and pittifull implore. 

Him hasty to arise : as one affright 

"With hellish feends, or furies mad uprore, 

He then uprose, inflamd with fell despight, 

And called for his armes; for he would algates fight. 

They bene ybrought ; he quickly does him dight. 

And hghtly mounted passeth on his way; 

J^Te ladies loves, ne sweete entreaties, might 
^Appease his heat, or hastie passage stay; 
'For he has vowd to beene avengd that day 

(That day itselfe him seemed all too long) 

On him, that did Pyrochles deare dismay: 

So proudly pricketh on his courser strong, 

And Atin ay him pricks with spurs of shame and wrong. 



IHB FAEEIE Q0EENB. 179 



CANTO VL 

Guyon is of immodest Merth 

Led into loose desyre ; 
Fights with Cymochles, whiles his bro^ 

ther hurnes in furious fyre. 

A HARDER lesson to learne continence ^ 
In ioyous pleasure then in grievous paine : 
For sweetnesse doth, allure the weaker sence 
So strongly, that uneathes it can refraine 
Prom that which feeble nature covets faine : 
But griefe and wrath, that be her enemies 
And foes of life, she better can restraine : 
Yet Yertue vauntes in both her victories ; 
And Guyon in them all shewes goodly maysterics. 

Whom bold Cymochles traveiling to finde. 
With cruell purpose bent to wreake on him 
The wrath which Atin kindled in his mind. 
Came to a river, by whose utmost brim 
Wayting to passe he saw whereas did swim 
Along the shore, as swift as glaunce of eye, 
A litle gondelay, bedecked trim 
With boughes and arbours woven cunningly. 
That like a litle forrest seemed outwardly. 

And therein sate a lady fresh and fayre. 
Making sweete solace to herselfe alone : 
Sometimes she song as lowd as larke in ayre, 
Sometimes she laught, that nigh her breath was gone ; 
Yet was there not with her else any one. 
That to her jright move cause of meriment: 
Matter of merth enough, though there were none. 
She could devize ; and thousand waies invent 
To feede her foohsh humour and vaine ioUiment. 

Which when far off Cymochles heard and saw. 

He lowdly cald to such as were abord 

The little barke unto the shore to draw. 

And him to'ferry over that deepe ford. 

The merry mariner unto his word • 

Soone hearkned, and her painted bote straightway 

Turnd to the shore, where that same warhke lord 

She in receiv'd, but Atin by no way 

She would admit, albe the knight her much did pray. 



180 THE FAEBIE QtTEENB. 

Eftsoones Iier shallow sliip away did slide, 

More swift than swallow skeres the liquid skye, 

AYithouten oare or pilot it to guide, 

Or winged canvas with the wind to fly: 

Onely she turnd a pin, and by and by 

It cut away upon the yielding wave, 

(Ne cared she her course for to apply,) 

For it was taught the way which she would have, 

And both from rocks and flats itselfe could wisely sava 

And all the way the wanton dams ell found 

ISTew merth her passenger to entertaine ; 

For she in pleasaunt purpose did aboulid. 

And greatly ioyed merry tales to fayne. 

Of which a store-house did with her remaine ; 

Yet seemed, nothing well they her became : 

For all her wordes she drownd with laughter vaine^ 

And wanted grace in utt'ring of the same. 

That turned all her pleasaunce to a scoffing game. 

And other whiles vaine toyes she would devize. 
As her fantasticke wit did most delight : 
Sometimes her head she fondly would agnize 
"With gaudy girlonds, or fresh flowrets dight 
About her necke, or rings of rushes plight : 
Sometimes, to do him laugh, she would assay 
To laugh at shaking of the leaves light. 
Or to behold the water worke and play 
About her little frigot, therein making way. 

Her light behaviour and loose dalliaunce 

Grave wondrous great contentment to the knight. 

That of his way he had no sovenaunce, 

Nor care of vow'd revenge and cruell fight. 

But to weake wench did yield his martiall might. 

So easie was to quench his flamed minde 

"With one sweet e drop of sensuall delight ! 

So easie is t' appease the stormy winde 

Of malice in the calme of pleasaunt womankind! 

Diverse discourses in their way they spent ; 

Mongst which Cymochles of her questioned 

Both what she was, and what that usage ment. 

Which in her cott she daily practized : 

" Vaine man," saide she, " that wouldest be reckoned 

A straunger in thy home, and ignoraunt 

Of Phsedria, (for so my name is red,) 

Of Phaidria, thine owne fellow servaunt ; 

For thou to serve Acrasia thy selfe doest vaunt. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 181 

•* In this wide inland sea, that liiglit by name 
The Idle Lake, my wandring ship I row, 
That knowes her port, and thether sayles by aymej, 
Ne care ne feare I how the wind do blow, 
Or whether swift I wend or whether slow : 
Both slow and swift alike do serve my tourne ; 
Ne swelling JNTeptune ne lowd:thundring love 
Can chaunge my cheare, or make me ever monrne : 
My litle boat can safely passe this perilous bourne/* 

Whiles thus she talked, and whiles thus she toyd. 

They were far past the passage which he spake. 

And come unto an island waste and voyd. 

That floted in the midst of that great lake ; 

There her small gondelay her port did make. 

And that gay payre issewing on the shore 

Disburdned her : their way they forward take 

Into the land that lay them faire before, 

Whose pleasaunce she him shewd, andplentifull groat store. 

It was a chosen plott of fertile land, 

Emongst wide waves sett, like a litle nest, 

As if it had by JN'atures cunning hand 

Bene choycely picked out from all the rest. 

And laid forth for ensample of the best : 

ISTo daintie flowre or herbe that growes on grownd, 

"No arborett with painted blossomes drest 

And smelling s we ete, but there it might be fownd 

To bud out faire, and her sweete smels throwe al arowTid, 

"No tree, whose braunches did not bravely spring ; 

No braunch, whereon a fine bird did not sitt : 

No bird, but did her shrill notes sweetely sing ; 

No song, but did containe a lovely ditt. 

Trees, braunches, birds, and songs, were framed filt 

For to allure fraile mind to carelesse ease. 

Carelesse the man soone woxe, and his weake witt 

Was overcome of thing that did him please : 

So pleased did his wrathfull purpose faire appease. 

Thus when shee had his eyes and sences fed 
With false delights, and fild with pleasures vayn, 
Into a shady dale she soft him led, 
And layd him downe upon a grassy playn ; 
And her sweete selfe without dread or disdayn 
She sett beside, laying his head disarmd 
In her loose lap, it softly to sustayn, 
Where soone he slumbred, fearing not be harmd: 
Tlie whiles with a love lay she ihu^ him sweetly charmd: 
9 



182 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

" Eeliold, O man, tliat toilesome paines doest talre, 
The flowrs, the fields, and all that pleasaunt gropes, 
How they themselves doe thine ensample make, 
Whiles nothing envious JSTature them forth throwea 
Out of her fruitfiill lap : how, no man Imowes, 
They spring, they bud, they blossome fresh and f aire, 
And decke the world with their rich pompous SjlOv^-e3 ; 
Yet no man for them taketh paines or care. 
Yet no man to them can his carefull paines compare. 

" The lilly, lady of the flowring field, 
The flowre-deluce, her lovely paramoure. 
Bid thee to them thy fruitlesse labors yield, 
And soone leave off this toylsome weary stoure: 
Loe ! loe, how brave she decks her bounteous boure, 
With silken curtens and gold coverletts. 
Therein to shrowd her sumptuous belamoure ! 
Yet nether spinnes nor cards, ne cares nor fretts. 
But to her mother Nature all her care she letts. 

" Why then doest thou, O man, that of them all 

Art lord, and eke of nature soveraine, 

Wilfully make thyselfe a wretched thrall. 

And waste thy ioyous howres in needelesse paine, 

Seeking for daunger and adventures vaine ? 

What bootes it al to have and nothing use ? 

Who shall him rew that swimming in the main© 

Will die for thirst, and water doth refuse ? 

Befuse such fruitlesse toile, and present pleasures chuse.** 

By this she had him lulled fast asleepe. 

That of no worldly thing he care did take : 

Then she with liquors strong his eies did steepe. 

That nothing should him hastily awake. 

So she him lefte, and did herselfe betake 

Unto her boat again, with which she clefte 

The slouthfuU wave of that great griesy lake : 

Soone shee that island far behind her lefte. 

And now is come to that same place where first she wefte. 

By this time was the worthy Guyon brought 
Unto the other side of that wide strond 
Where she was rowing, and for passage sought : 
Him needed not long call; shee soone to hond 
Her ferry brought, where him she byding fond 
With his sad guide : himselfe shee tooke aboord. 
But his black palmer suffred still to stond, 
"Ne would for price or prayers once affoord 
To ferry that old man over the perlous foord. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 183 

Guyon was loath to leave his guide behind, 

Yet beino: entred might not backe retyre ; 

"For the flitt barke, obaying to her mind, 

Forth launched quickly as she did desire, 

Ne gave him leave to bid that aged sire 

Adieu, but nimbly ran her wonted course 

Through the dull billowes thicke as troubled mire. 

Whom nether wind out of their seat could forse, 

"Nov timely tides did drive out of their sluggish sourse. 

And by the way, as was her wonted guize. 

Her mery fitt she freshly gan to reare. 

And did of ioy and ioUity devize 

Herselfe to cherish, and her guest to cheare. 

The knight was courteous, and did not forbeare 

Her honest merth and pleasaunce to partake : 

But when he saw her toy, and gibe, and geare. 

And passe the bonds of modest merimake. 

Her dalliaunce he despis'd and follies did forsake. 

Yet she stiU followed her former style. 

And said, and did, all that mote him delight, 

Till they arrived in that pleasaunt ile, 

Where sleeping late she lefte her other knight. 

But, whenas Guyon of that land had sight, 

He wist himselfe amisse, and angry said ; 

" Ah ! dame, perdy ye have not doen me right. 

Thus to mislead mee, whiles I you obaid : 

Mee litle needed from my right way to have straid.** 

" Faire sir," quoth she, " be not displeasd at all ; 

Who fares on sea may not commaund his way, 

Ne wind and weather at his pleasure call : 

The sea is wide, and easy for to stray; 

The wind unstable, and doth never stay. 

But here a while ye may in safety rest, 

Till season serve new passage to assay: 

Better safe port then be in seas distrest/* 

Therewith she laught, and did her earnest end in iest. 

But he, halfe discontent, mote nathelesse 
Himselfe appease, and issewd forth on shore: 
The ioyes whereof and happy fruitfulnesse, 
Such as he saw, she gan him lay before, 
And all, though pleasaunt, yet she made much more. 
The fields did laugh, the fiowres did freshly spring. 
The trees did bud, and early blossomes bore ; 
And all the quire of birds did sweetly sing, 
And told that gardins pleasures in their caroling. 



184 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

And she, more sweete than any bird on bough. 
Would oftentimes emongst them beare a part. 
And strive to passe (as she could well enough) 
Their native musicke by her skilful art : 
So did she all, that might his constant hart^ 
Withdraw from thought of warlike enterprize. 
And drowne in dissolute dehghts apart, 
Where noise of armes, or vew of martiall guize. 
Might not revive desire of knightly exercize : 

But he was wise, and wary of her will. 

And ever held his hand upon his hart ; 

Yet would not seeme so rude, and thewed ill, 

As to despise so curteous seeming part 

That gentle lady did to him impart ; 

But, fairly tempring, fond desire subdewd, 

And ever her desired to depart. 

She list not heare, but her disports poursewd. 

And ever bad him stay till time the tide renewd. 

And now by this Cymochles howre was spent. 

That he awoke out of his ydle dreme ; 

And, shaking off his drowsy dreriment, 

Gan him avize, howe ill did him beseme. 

In slouthfull sleepe his molten hart to steme, 

And quench the brond of his conceived yre. 

Tho up he started, stird with shame extreme, 

Ne staled for his damsell to inquire. 

But marched to the strond, there passage to require. 

And in the way he with Sir Guyon mett, 

Accompanyde with Phsedria the faire : 

Eftsoones he gan to rage, and inly frett. 

Crying ; " Let be that lady debonaire, 

Thou recreaunt knight, and soone thyselfe prepaire 

To batteile, if thou meane her love to gayn. 

Loe ! loe already how the fowles in aire 

Doe flocke, awaiting shortly to obtayn 

Thy carcas for their pray, the guerdon of thy payn.'* 

And there-withall he fiersly at him flew, 

And with importune outrage him assayld ; 

Who, soone prepard to field, his sword forth drew. 

And him with equall valew countervayld: 

Their mightie strokes their haberieons dismayld. 

And naked made each others manly spalles ; 

The mortall Steele despiteously entayld 

Deepe in their flesh, quite through the yron walles, 

That a large purple streame adown their giambeux fallea. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 185 

Cymocliles, that had never mett before 

So puissant foe, with envious despight 

His prowd presumed force increased more, 

Disdeigning to bee held so long in fight. 

Sir Guy on, grudging not so much his might 

As those unknightly raylinges which he spoke. 

With wrathfuU fire his corage kindled bright, 

Thereof devising shortly to be wrokc, 

And doubling all his powres redoubled every stroke. 

33oth of them high attonce their hands enhaunst. 

And both attonce their huge blowes down did sway: 

Cymochles sword on Guyons shield yglaunst. 

And thereof nigh one quarter sheard away: 

But Guyons angry blade so fiers did play 

On th' others helmett, which as Titan shone. 

That quite it clove his plumed crest in tway, 

And bared all his head unto the bone; 

Where-with astonisht still he stood as sencelesse stone. 

Still as he stood, fayre Phsedria, that beheld 

That deadly daunger, soone atweene them ran ; 

And at their feet herselfe most humbly feld. 

Crying with pitteous voyce, and count'nance wan, 

** Ah, well away! most noble lords, how can 

Your cruell eyes endure so pitteous sight, 

To shed your lives on ground ? Wo worth the man. 

That first did teach the cursed Steele to bight 

In his owne flesh, and make way to the living spright ! 

" If ever love of lady did empierce 

Your yron brestes, or pittie could find place. 

Withhold your bloody handes from battaiU fierce 5 

And, sith for me ye fight, to me this grace 

Both yield, to stay your deadly stryfe a space." 

They stayd a while : and forth she gan proceede: 

" Most wretched woman and of wicked race. 

That am the authour of this hainous deed, ^ [breed ! 

And cause of death betweene two doughtie knights do 

" But if for me ye fight, or me will serve, 

Not this rude kynd of battaill, nor these armes 

Are meet, the which doe men in bale to sterve. 

And doolefull sorrowe heape with deadly harmcs : 

Such cruell game my scarmoges disarmes. 

Another warre, and other weapons, I 

Doe love, where Love does give his sweete alarmcs 

Without bloodshed, and where the enimy 

Does yield unto his foe a pleasaunt victory. 



186 THE FAEEIE QUEENB, 

*' Debatefull strife, and cruell enmity, 

The famous name of kniglitliood fowly sliend ; 

But lovely peace, and gentle amity. 

And in amours the passing Lowres to spend, 

Tlie mightie martiall handes doe most commend; 

Of love they ever greater glory bore 

Then of their armes : Mars is Cupidoes frend, 

And is for Venus loves renowmed more 

Then all his wars and spoiles, the which he did of yore.* 

Therewith she sweetly smyld. They, though full bent 

To prove extremities of bloody fight. 

Yet at her speach their rages gan relent, 

And calme the sea of their tempestuous spight: 

Such powre have pleasing wordes ! Such is the might 

Of courteous clemency in gentle hart !^ 

iNow after all was ceast, the Faery knight 

Besought that damsell suffer him depart, 

And yield him ready passage to that other part. 

She no lesse glad then he desirous was 

Of his departure thence ; for of her ioy 

And vaine delight she saw he light did pas, 

A foe of folly and immodest toy, 

Still solemne sad, or still disdainfull coy; 

Delighting all in armes and cruell warre. 

That her sweete peace and pleasures did annoy. 

Troubled with terrour and unquiet iarre, 

That she weU pleased was thence to amove him farre. 

Tho him she brought abord, and her swift bote 
Forthwith directed to that further strand; 
The which on the duU waves did lightly flote. 
And soone arrived on the shallow sand. 
Where gladsome Guyon salied forth to land, 
And to that damsell thankes gave for reward. 
Upon that shore he spyed Atin stand. 
There by his maister left, when late he far*d 
In Phadrias flitt barck over that perlous shard. 

Well could he him remember, sith of late 

He with Pyrocles sharp debatement made : 

Streight gan he him revyle, and bitter rate. 

As shepheardes curre, that in darke eveninges shade 

Hath tracted forth some salvage beastes trade : 

*' Vile miscreaunt," said he, "whether dost thou flye 

The shame and death, which wiU thee soon invade ? 

What coward hand shall doe thee next to dye, 

That art thus fowly lledd from famous enimy ?" 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 187 

With that he stifly shooke his steelhead dart : 
But sober Guyon hearing him so rayle. 
Though somewhat moved in his mightie hart. 
Yet with strong reason maistred passion fraile, 
And passed fayrely forth : he, turning taile, 
Backe to the strond retyrd, and there still stayd. 
Awaiting passage, which him late did faile ; 
The while^s Cymochles with that wanton mayd 
The hasty heat of his avowd revenge delayd. 

Whylest there the varlet stood, he saw from farre 
An armed knight that towardes him fast ran ; 
He ran on foot, as if in lucklesse warre 
His forlorne steed from him the victour wan : 
He seemed breathlesse, hartlesse, faint, and wan j 
And all his armour sprinckled was with blood, 
And soyld with durtie gore, that no man can 
Discerne the hew thereof; he never stood, 
But bent his hastie coiu^se towardes the Ydle flood. 

The varlet saw, when to the flood he came 
How without stop or stay he fiersly lept. 
And deepe himselfe beducked in the same. 
That in the lake his loftie crest w^as stept, 
Ne of his safetie seemed care he kept ; 
But with his raging armes he rudely flasht 
The waves about, and all his armour swept, 
That all the blood and filth away was washt ; 
Yet still he bet the water, and the billowes dasht. 

Atin drew nigh to weet what it mote bee ; 
For much he wondered at that uncouth sight : 
Whom should he but his own deare lord there see. 
His owne deare lord Pyrochles in sad plight, 
Beady to drowne himselfe for fell despight : 
** Harrow now, out and well away !" he cryde, 
** What dismall day hath lent this cursed light. 
To see my lord so deadly damnifyde ? 
Pyrochles, O Pyrochles, what is thee betyde?" 

** I bume, I bume, I burne,** then lowd he cryde, 

" O how I burne with implacable fyre ! 

Yet nought can quench mine inly flaming syde, 

Nor sea of licour cold, nor lake of myre ; 

Nothing but death can doe me to respyre." 

" Ah ! be it,"^ said he, " from Pyrochles farre 

After pursewing death once to requyre. 

Or think, that ought those puissant hands may marre : 

Death is for wretches borne imder unhappy starre." 



188 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

" Perdye, tlien is it fitt for me," said lie, 
" That am, I weene, most wretched man alive 5 
iBurning in flames, yet no flames can I see, 
And, dying dayly, dayly yet revive : 
O AtiQ, helpe to me last death to give !'* 
The varlet at his plaint was grievd so sore, 
That his deepe-wounded hart in two did rive ; 
And, his owne health remembring now no more, 
Did follow that ensample which he blam'd afore. 

Into the lake he lept his lord to ayd, 

(So love the dread of dannger doth despise,) 

And, of him catching hold, him stronglj^ stayd 

From drowning; but more happy, he then wise, 

Of that seas nature did him not avise : 

The waves thereof so slow and sluggish were, 

Engrost with mud which did them fowle agrise. 

That every weighty thing they did upbeare, 

ISTe ought mote ever sinck downe to the bottom there. 

"Whyles thus they strugled in that Ydle wave. 
And strove in vaine, the one himselfe to drowne. 
The other both from drowning for to save ; 
Lo ! to that shore one in an auncient gowne. 
Whose hoary locks great gravitie did crowne. 
Holding in hand a goodly arming sword, 
By fortune came, ledd with the troublous sowne : 
Where drenched deepe he fownd in that dull ford 
The carefull servaunt stryving with his raging lord. 

Him Atin spying knew right well of yore. 
And lowdly cald ; " Help! helpe, O Archimage, 
To save my lord in wretched plight forlore ; 
Helpe with thy hand, or with thy counsell sage : 
Weake handes, but counsell is most strong in age. 
Him when the old man saw, he woundred sore 
To see Pyrochles there so rudely rage : 
Yet sithens helpe, he saw, he needed more 
Then pitty, he in hast approched to the shore. 

And cald ; " Pyrochles, what is this I see ? 

What hellish fury hath at earst thee hent ? 

Purious ever I thee knew to bee. 

Yet never in this straunge astonishment." 

" These flames, these flames !" he cryde,'*doe me tonnent!'' 

** What flames," quoth he, "when I thee present see 

In daunger rather to be drent then brent ?" 

" Harrow ! the flames which me consume," said he, 

" ]N"e can be quencht, within my secret bowelles bee. 



THE rAERIE QUEENE. 189 

" That cursed man, that cruel feend of hell. 
Furor, oh! Furor hath me thus bedight : 
His deadly woundes within my liver swell. 
And his whott fyre burnes in mine entralles bright, 
Kindled through his infernall brond of spight, 
Sith late with him I batteill vaine would boste ; 
That now I weene loves dreaded thunder light 
Does scorch not halfe so sore, nor damned ghoste 
In flaming Phlegeton does not so felly roste." 

Which whenas Archimago heard, his griefe 

He knew right well, and him attonce disarm'd : 

Then searclit his secret woundes, and made a priefe 

Of eYery place that was with bruzing harmd, 

Or with the hidden fier inly warmd. 

"Which doen, he balmes and herbes thereto apply ^^e. 

And evermore with mightie spels them charmd ; 

That in short space he has them qualifyde. 

And him restord to helth, that would have algates dyde. 



CANTO vn. 

Guyon findes Mammon in a delve 
Sunning his threasure hore ; 

Is by him tempted, and led downe 
To see his secrete store. 

As pilot well expert in perilous wave, 
That to a stedfast starre his course hath bent. 
When foggy mistes or cloudy tempests have 
The faithfull light of that faire lampe yblent, 
And cover d heaven with hideous dreriment ; 
Upon his card and compas firmes his eye. 
The maysters of his long experiment, 
And to them does the steddy helme apply, 
Bidding his winged vessell iairely forward fly: 

So Guyon having lost his trustie guyde, 
Late left beyond that Ydle Lake, proceedes 
Yet on his way, of none accompanyde ; 
And evermore himselfe with comfort feedes 
Of his owne vertues and praise-worthie deedes. 
So, long he yofle, yet no adventure found, 
Which Fame of her shrill trompct worthy reedcs : 
For still he traveild through wide wastfull ground, 
That nought but desert wildernessc shewd all around. 



I DO THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

At last lie came unto a gloomy glade, 
Cover'd with boughes and skrubs from lieavens light, 
"Whereas he sitting found in secret shade 
An uncouth, salvage, and un civile wight, 
Of griesly hew and fowle ill-favour'd sight ; 
• His face with smoke was tand, and eies were bleard, 
His head and beard with sout were ill bedight. 
His cole-blacke hands did seeme to have ben seard [peard. 
In smythes fire-spitting forge, and nayles like clawes ap- 

His yron cote, all overgrowne with rust, 

Was underneath enveloped with gold ; 

Whose glistring glosse, darkned with filthy dust. 

Well yet appered to have beene of old 

A worke of rich entayle and curious mould. 

Woven with antickes and wyld ymagery : 

And in his lap a masse of coyne he told. 

And turned upside Jowne, to feede his eye 

And covetous desire with his huge threasury. 

And round about him lay on every side 

Great heapes of gold that never could be spent ; 

Of which some were rude owre, not purifide 

Of Mulcibers devouring element ; 

Some others were new driven, and distent 

Into great ingowes and to wedges square ; 

Some in round plates withouten moniment : 

But most were stampt, and in there metal bare 

The antique shapes of kings and Kesars straung nvA rare, 

Soone as he Guyon saw, in great affright 

And haste he rose for to remove aside 

Those pretious hils from straungers envious sight, 

And downe them poured through an hole full wide 

Into the hollow earth, them there to hide : 

But Guy on, lightly to him leaping, stayd 

His hand that trembled as one terrify de ; 

And though himselfe were at the sight dismayd, 

Yet him perforce restraynd, and to him doubtfull sayd ; 

" What art thou, man, (if man at all thou art,) 

That here in desert hast thine habitaunce. 

And these rich hils of welth doest hide apart 

Prom the worldes eye, and from her right usauncc F'*^ 

Thereat, with staring eyes fixed askaunce, 

In great disdaine he answerd : " Hardy Elfe, 

That darest view my direful countenaunce ! 

I read thee rash and heedlesse of thyselfe. 

To trouble my still seate and heapes of pretious pcife. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 191 

" God of tlie world and worldlings I me call. 

Great Mammon, greatest god below the skye, 

That of my plenty poure out unto all^ 

And unto none my graces do envye : 

Eiches, renowme, and principality, 

Honour,., estate, and all this worldes good, 

For which men swinck and sweat incessantly. 

Fro me do flow into an ample flood. 

And in the hollow earth have their eternall brood. 

"Wlierefore if me thou deigne to serve and sew. 

At thy commaund lo ! all these mountaines bee: 

Or if to thy great mind, or greedy vew. 

All these may not suffise, there shall to thee 

Ten times so much be nombred francke and free." 

" Mammon," said he " thy godheads vaunt is vame. 

And idle offers of thy golden fee ; ^ 

To them that covet such eye-glutting gaine 

Proffer thy giftes, and fitter servaunts entertaine. 

" Me ill befits, that in derdoing armes 

And honours suit my vowed dales do spend, 

Unto thy bounteous baytes and pleasing charmes. 

With which weake men thou witchest, to attend; 

Eegard of worldly mucke doth fowly blend 

And low abase the high heroicke spright. 

That ioyes for crownes and kingdomes to contend : 

Faire shields, gay steedes, bright armes, be my delight j 

Those be the riches fit for an advent 'rous knight.'* 

*'Yaine glorious Elfe," saide he, "doest not thou weet. 

That money can thy wantes at will supplj'^? 

Shields, steeds, and armes, and all things for thee meet. 

It can purvay in twinckling of an eye ; 

And crownes and kingdomes to thee multiply. 

Do not I kings create, and throw the crowne 

Sometimes to him that low in dust doth ly. 

And him that raignd into his rowme thrust downe ; 

And, whom I lust, do heape with glory and renowne i^" 

" All otherwise," saide he, " I riches read. 

And deeme them roote of all disquietnesse ; 

First got with guile, and then preserv'd with dread* 

And after spent with pride and lavishnesse. 

Leaving behind them griefe and heavinesse : 

Infinite mischiefes of them doe arize ; 

Strife and debate, bloodshed and bitternesse, 

Outrageous wrong and hellish covetize ; 

That noble heart, as great dishonour, doth despize. 



192 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

" "Ne tMne be kingdomes, ne tlie scepters tKine ; 

But realmes and rulers thou doest both confound. 

And loyall truth to treason doest incline : 

Witnesse the guiltlesse blood pourd oft on ground; 

The crowned often slaine ; the slayer cround ; 

The sacred diademe in peeces rent ; 

And purple robe gored with many a wound ; 

Castles surprizd ; great cities sackt and brent : 

So mak'st thou kings, and gaynest wrongf ull government ! 

"Long were to tell the troublous stormes that tosse 

The private state, and make the life unsweet : 

Who swelling sayles m Caspian sea doth crosse, 

And in frayle wood on Adrian gulf doth fleet. 

Doth not, I weene, so many evils meet." 

Then Mammon wexing wroth, "And why then," sayd, 

** Are mortall men so fond and undiscreet 

So evill thing to seeke unto their ayd ; 

And, having not, complaine ; and, having it upbrayd ?** 

" Indeed,*' quoth he, " through fowle intemperaunce, 

Frayle men are oft captiv'd to covetise : 

But would they thinke with how small allowaunce 

Untroubled nature doth herselfe suffice. 

Such superfluities they would despise. 

Which with sad cares empeach our native ioyes. 

At the well-head the purest streames arise ; 

But mucky filth his braunching armes annoyes, 

And with uncomely weedes the gentle wave accloycs. 

" The antique world, in his first flowring youth, 

Fownd no defect in his Creators grace ; 

But with glad thankes, and unreproved truth, 

The guiftes of soveraine bounty did embrace : 

Like angels life was then mens happy cace : 

But later ages pride, like corn-fed steed, 

Abusd her plenty and fat-swolne encreace 

To all licentious lust, and gan exceed 

The measure of her meane and naturall first need. 

" Then gan a cursed hand the quiet wombe 

Of his great grandmother with Steele to wound. 

And the hid treasures in her sacred tombe 

With sacriledge to dig : therein he fownd 

Pountaines of gold and silver to abownd. 

Of which the matter of his huge desire 

And pompous pride eftsoones he did compownd ; 

Then Avarice gan through his veines inspire 

His greedy flames, and kindled life-devouring fii*e.** 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 103 

" Sonne," said lie then, "lett be tliy bitter scorns. 
And leave the rudenesse of that antique age 
To them, that liv'd therin in state forlorne. 
Thou, that doest hve in later times must wage 
Thy workes for wealth, and life for gold engage. 
If then thee hst my ofired grace to use, 
Take what thou please of all this surplusage ; 
If thee list not, leave have thou to refuse : 
But thing refused doe not afterward accuse." 

" Me list not," said the Elfin knight, ''receave 

Thing offred, till I know it well be gott ; 

Ne wote I but thou didst these goods bereave 

From rightfuU owner by unrighteous lott. 

Or that blood-guiltinesse or guile them blott." 

" Perdy," quoth he, " yet never eie did vew, 

Ne tong did teU, ne hand these handled not ; 

But safe I have them kept in secret mew 

Prom hevens sight and powre of al which them poursow.** 

" What secret place," quoth he, " can safely hold 
So huge a masse, and hide from heavens eie ? 
Or where hast thou thy wonne, that so much gold 
Thou canst preserve from wrong and robbery?" 
*' Come thou," quoth he, " and see." So by and by 
Through that thick covert he him led, and fownd 
A darksome way, which no man could descry. 
That deepe descended through the hollow grownd, 
And was with dread and horror compassed arownd. 

At length they came into a larger space. 

That stretcht itselfe into an ample playne ; 

Through which a beaten broad high way did trace. 

That streight did lead to Plutoes griesly rayne : 

By that wayes side there sate infernaU Payne, 

And fast beside him sate tumultuous Strife; 

The one in hand an yron whip did strayne, 

The other brandished a bloody knife ; 

And both did gnash their teeth, and both did threaten life. 

On th' other side in one consort there sate 

CrueU Eevenge, and rancorous Despight, 

PisloyaU Treason, and hart-burning If ate ; 

But gnawing Gealosy, out of their sight 

Sitting alone, his bitter lips did bight ; 

And trembling Peare still to and fro did fly, 

And found no place wher safe he shroud him might : 

Lamenting Sorrow did in darknes lye ; 

Aiid Shame his ugly face did hide from living eye. 



194 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

And over tliem sad Horror with grim hew 
Did alwaies sore, beating his jron wings ; 
And after him owles and night-ravens flew^ 
The hateful! messengers of heavy things. 
Of death and dolor telUng sad tidings ; 
Whiles sad Celeno, sitting on a chfte, 
A song of bale and bitter sorrow sings. 
That hart of flint asonder could have rifte ; 
Which having ended after him she flyeth swifte. 

All these before the gates of Pluto lay; 

[By whom they passing spake unto them nought. 

But th* Elfin knight with wonder all the way 

Did feed his eyes, and fild his inner thought. 

At last him to a httle dore he brought, ^ 

That to the gate of hell, which gaped wide, 

Was next adioyning, ne them parted ought : 

[Betwixt them both was but a Httle stride, 

That did the [House of Eichesse from [Hell-mouth divide, 

[Before the dore sat selfe-consuming Care, 

Day and night keeping wary watch and ward, 

[For feare least Force or Fraud should unaware 

[Break in, and spoile the treasure there in gard: 

[ISTe would he suffer Sleepe once thether-ward 

Approch, albe his drowsy den were next ; 

For next to Death is Sleepe to be compard ; 

Therefore his house is unto his annext : 

[Here Sleep, there Eichesse, and Hel-gate them both be L\>-ext. 

So soon as Mammon there arrivd, the dore 
To him did open and affoorded way: 
[Him followed eke Sir Guyon evermore, 
[Ne darknesse him ne daunger might dismay. 
Soone as he entred was, the dore streightway 
Did shutt, and from behind it forth there lept 
An ugly feend, more fowle then dismall day; 
The which with monstrous stalke behind him stepfc. 
And ever as he went dew watch upon him kept. 

Well hoped hee, ere long that hardy guest. 
If ever covetous hand, or lustfull eye. 
Or Hps he layd on thing that likt him best. 
Or ever sleepe his eie-strings did untye. 
Should be his pray: and therefore still on hyo 
[He over him did hold his craell clawes, 
Threatning with greedy gri])e to doe him dye. 
And rend in peeces with his ravenous pawes, 
J£ ever he transgrest the fataU Stygian lawes. 



THE FAEEIB QUEENE.* 195 

Tliat houses forme within was rude and strong, 

Lyke an huge cave hewne out of rocky clifte, 

From whose rough vaut the ragged breaches hong 

Embost with massy gold of glorious guifte, 

And with rich metall loaded every rifte, 

That heavy mine they did seeme to threatt : 

And over them Arachne high did hfte 

Her cunning web, and spred her subtile nett, 

Enwrapped in fowle smoke and clouds more black than iett. 

Both roofe, and floore, and walls, were all of gold. 

But overgrowne with dust and old decay, 

And hid in darknes, that none could behold 

The hew thereof; for vew of cherefuU day 

Did never in that house itselfe display. 

But a faint shadow of uncertein light ; 

Such as a lamp, whose life does fade away; 

Or as the moone, cloathed with clowdy night, 

Does shew to him that walkes in feare and sad affright. 

In all that rowme was nothing to be scene 

But huge great yron chests, and coffers strong. 

All bard with double bends, that none could weene 

Them to enforce by violence or wrong ; 

On every side they placed were along. 

Bat all the grownd with sculs was scattered 

And dead mens bones, which round about were flong ; 

"Whose lives, it seemed, whilome there were shed. 

And their vile carcases now left unburied. 

They forward passe ; ne Guyon yet spoke word. 
Till that they came unto an yron dore, 
Which to them opened of his owne accord. 
And shewd of richesse such exceeding stora- 
As eie of man did never see before, 
Ne ever could within one place be fownd, 
Though all the wealth, which is or was of yore. 
Could gatherd be through all the world arownd. 
And that above were added to that under grownd. 

The charge thereof unto a covetous spright 
Commaunded was, who thereby did attend. 
And warily awaited day and night, 
Erora other covetous feends it to defend. 
Who it to rob and ransacke did intend. 
Then Mammon, turning to that warriour, said ; 
** Loe, here the worldes bUs ! loe, here th^ end 
To which al men do ayme, rich to be made ! 
Such grace now to be happy is before thee laid.** 



196 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

" Certes," sayd lie, " I n'ill thine offred grace, 

JSTe to be made so liappy doe intend ! 

Auotlier blis before mine eyes I place. 

Another happines, another end. 

To them, that hst, these base regardes I lend : 

But I in amies, and in atchieyements brave. 

Do rather choose my flitting houres to spend. 

And to be lord of those that riches have, 

Then them to have my selfe, and be their servile sclave.** 

Thereat the feend his gnashing teeth did grate. 
And griev'd, so long to lacke his greedie pray; 
For well he weened that so glorious bayte 
Would tempt his guest to take thereof assay: 
Had he so doen, he had him snatcht away, 
More light than culver in the faulcons fist : 
Eternall God thee save from such decay ! 
But, whenas Mammon saw his purpose mist. 
Him to entrap unwares another way he wist. 

Thence, forward he him ledd, and shortly brought 
Unto another rowme, whose dore forthright 
To him did open as it had beene taught : 
Therein an hundred rauuges weren pight, 
And hundred fournaces allburning bright: 
By every fournace many feends did hjde, 
Deformed creatures, horrible in sight ; 
And every feend his busie paines applyde 
To melt the golden metall, ready to be tr^^de. 

One with great bellowes gathered filling ayre. 
And with forst wind the fewell did inflame ; 
Another did the dying brqnds repayre 
With yron tongs, and sprinckled ofte the same 
With liquid waves, fiers Yulcans rage to tame, 
Who, maystring them, renewd his former heat: 
Some scnmd the drosse that from the metall came ; 
Some stird the molten owre with ladles great : 
And every one did swincke, and every one did sweat. 

But, when an earthly wight they present saw, 

Ghstring in armes and battailous aray, 

From their whot work they did themselves withdraw 

To wonder at the sight ; for, till that day, 

They never creature saw that cam that way : 

Their staring eyes sparckling with fervent fyre 

And ugly shapes did nigh the man dismay. 

That, v,eve it not for shame, he would retyre ; 

Till that him thus bespake their soveraine lord and syre: 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 197 

'' Behold, tliou Faeries sonne, with, mortall eye. 

That living eye before did never see ! 

Tiie thing, that thou didst crave so earnestly, 

To weet whence all the wealth late shewd by meo 

Proceeded, lo ! now is reveald to thee. 

Here is the fountaine of the worldes good ! 

Now therefore, if thou wilt enriched bee, 

Avise thee well, and chaunge thy wilful mood ; 

Least thou perhaps hereafter wish, and be withstood.'* 

** Suffise it then, thou money-god," quoth hee, 

" That all thine ydle offers I refuse. 

All that I need I have ; what needeth mee 

To covet more then I have cause to use ? 

With such vaine shewes thy worldlinges vyle abuse : 

But give me leave to follow mine emprise." 

Mammon was much displeasd, yet no'te he chuse 

But beare the rigour of his bold mesprise : 

And thence him forward ledd, him farther to entise. 

He brought him, through a darksom narrow stray i^ 

To a broad gate all built of beaten gold : 

The gate was open ; but therein did wayt 

A sturdie villein, stryding stiffe and bold. 

As if the Highest God defy he would : 

In his right hand an yron club he held, 

But he himselfe was all of golden mould, 

Yet had both life and sence, and well could weld 

That cursed weapon, when his cruell foes he queld. 

Disdayne he called was, and did disdayne 

To be so cald, and who so did him call : 

Sterne was his looke, and full of stomacke vayne ; 

His portaunce terrible, and stature tall, 

Far passing th' hight of men terrestriall ; 

Like an huge gyant of the Titans race ; 

That made him scorne all creatures great and small, 

And with his pride all others powre deface : 

More fitt emonst black fiendes then men to have his placo. 

Soone as those glitterand armes he did espye, 

That with their brightness e made that darknes light, 

His harmefull club he gan to hurtle hye. 

And threaten batteill to the Faery knight ; 

Who likewise gan himselfe to batteill dight. 

Till Mammon did his hasty hand withhold. 

And counseld him abstaine from perilous fight; 

For nothing might abash the villein bold, 

Ne mortall Steele emperce his miscreated mould. 



198 THE FAERIE QUEENS. 

So havinpf liim witli reason pacifyde, 

And tliat fiers carle commaunding to forbeare, 

He brought liim in. The rowme was large and "wyde. 

As it some gy eld or solenine temple weare ; 

Many great golden pillours did upbeare 

The massy roofe, and riches huge sustayne ; 

And every pillour decked was full deare 

With crownes, and diademes, and titles vaine, 

Which mortall princes wore whiles they on earth did rayne. 

A route of people there assembled were. 

Of every sort and nation under skye, 

Which with great uprore preaced to draw nere 

To th' upper part, where was advaunced hye 

A stately siege of soveraine maiestye ; 

And thereon satt a woman gorgeous gay. 

And richly cladd in robes of roj^altye. 

That never earthly prince in such aray 

His glory did enhaunce, and pompous pryde display. 

Her face right wondrous faire did seeme to bee, 

That her broad beauties beam great brightnes threw 

Through the dim shade, that all men might it see ; 

Yet was not that same her owne native hew, 

But wrought by art and counterfetted shew. 

Thereby more lovers unto her to call ; 

Nath'lesse most hevenly faire in deed and vew 

She by creation was, till she did fall ; 

Thenceforth she sought for helps to cloke her crime withalL 

There, as in glistring glory she did sitt. 
She held a great gold chaine ylincked well. 
Whose upper end to highest heven was knitt. 
And lower part did rea*ch to lowest hell ; 
And all that preace did rownd about her swell 
To catchen hold of that long chaine, thereby 
To climbe aloft, and others to exceE. : 
That was Ambition, rash desire to sty. 
And every linck thereof a step of dignity. 

Some thought to raise themselves to high degreo 

By riches and unrighteous reward ; 

Some by close shouldring ; some by flatteree ; 

Others through friendes ; others for base regard ; 

And all, by wrong waies, for themselves prepard : 

Those, that were up themselves, kept others low ; 

Those, that were low themselves, held others hard, 

Ne suffred them to ryse or greater grow ; 

But every one did strive his fellow downe to throw# 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 199 

Wliioli whenas Guyon saw, lie gan inquire, 

What meant that preace about that ladies throne, 

And what she was that did so high aspyre ? 

Him Mammon answered ; " That goodly one. 

Whom all that folke with such contention 

Doe flock about, my deare, my daughter is » 

Honour and dignitie from her alone 

Derived are, and all this worldes blis, 

For which ye men doe strive ; few gett, but many mis : 

" And fayre Philotime she rightly hight, ^ 

The fairest wight that wonneth under skie, 

But that this darksom neather world her light 

Doth dim with horror and deformity, 

Worthie of heven and hye felicitie, 

From whence the gods have her for envy thrust ; 

But, sith thou hast found favour in mine eye. 

Thy spouse I will her make, if that thou lust ; 

That she may theq advance for works and merits iust/* 

•*Gramercy, Mammon,'* said the gentle knight, 

" For so great grace and offred high estate ; 

But I, that am fraile flesh and earthly wight. 

Unworthy match for such immor tall mate 

Myselfe well wote, and mine unequall fate ; 

And were I not, yet is my trouth yplight. 

And love avowd to other lady late. 

That to remove the same I have no might : 

To chaunge love causelesse is reproch to warlike knii^ht." 

Mammon emmoved was with inward wrath ; 

Yet, forcing it to fayne, him forth thence ledd, 

Through griesly shadowes by a beaten path, 

Into a gardin goodly garnished 

With hearbs and fruits, whose kinds mote not be redd: 

Not such as earth out of her fruitfull woomb, 

Throwes forth to men, sweet and well savored, 

But direfaU deadly black, both leafe and bloom, 

Fitt to adorne the dead and deck the drery toonibo. 

There moumfuU cypresse grew in greatest store ; 
And trees of bitter gall ; and heben sad ; 
Dead sleeping poppy ; and black hellebore ; 
Cold coloquintida ; and tetra mad ; 
Mortall samnitis ; and cicuta bad, 
With which th' uniust Atheniens made to dy 
Wise Socrates, who, thereof qualEng glad, 
Pourd out his life and last philosophy 
To the fayre Critias, his dearest belamy 1 



200 THE FAEEIE QUEENS. 

Tlie gar din of Proserpina this liiglit : 

And in the midst thereof a silver seat, 

"With a thick arber goodly oyer dight, 

In Tvhich she often usd from open heat 

Herselfe to shroud, and pleasures to entreat : 

ISText thereunto did grow a goodlj^ tree, 

With braunches broad dispredd and body great, 

Clothed with leaves, that none the wood mote sco. 

And loaden all with fruit as thick as it might bee. 

Their fruit were golden apples glistring bright, 
That goodly was their glory to behold ; 
On earth like never grew, ne living wight 
Like ever saw, but they from hence were sold ; 
"For those, which Hercules with conquest bold 
Got from great Atlas daughters, hence began, 
And planted there did bring forth fruit of gold ; 
And those, with which th' Euboean young man wan 
Swift Atalanta, when through craft he her out-ran. 

Here also sprong that goodly golden fruit, 

With which Acontius got his lover trew. 

Whom he had long time sought with fruitlesse suit : 

Here eke that famous golden apple grew. 

The which emongst the gods false Ate threw; 

Por which th' Ida^an ladies disagreed, 

T^ partiall Paris dempt it Yenus dew, 

And had of her fayre Helen for his meed. 

That many noble Greekes and Troians made to bleed. 

The warlike Elfe much wondred at this tree. 

So fayre and great, that shadowed all the ground ; 

And his broad braunches laden with rich fee, 

Did stretch themselves without the utmost bound 

Of this great gardin, compast with a mound : 

Which over 'hanging, they themselves did steepe 

In a blacke flood, which flow'd about it round; 

That is the river of Cocytus deepe. 

In which full many soules do endlesse wayle and weepe, 

WTiich to behold he clomb up to the bancke ; 
And, looking downe, saw many damned wightes 
In those sad waves, which dire full deadly stancke, 
Plonged continually of cruell sprightes. 
That with their x)iteous crj^es, and yelling shrightes. 
They made the further shore resounden wide : 
Emongst the rest of those same ruefuU sightes. 
One cursed creature he by chaunce espide. 
That drenched lay fuU deepe under the garden side. 



THE FAEEIB QUEENB. 201 

Deepe was lie drenclied to the upmost cLin, 
Yet gaped still as coveting to drinke 
Of the cold liquor wliicli lie waded in ; 
And, stretching forth his hand, did often thinke 
To reach the fruit which grew upon the brincke ; 
But both the fruit from hand, and flood from mouth. 
Did fly abacke, and made him vainely swincke ; 
The whiles he sterv'd with hunger, and with drouth 
He daily dyde, yet never throughly dyen couth. 

The knight, him seeing labour so in vaine, 

Askt who he was, and what he meant thereby ? 

Who, groning deepe, thus answerd him againe ; 

" Most cursed of ^11 creatures under skye, 

Lo Tantalus, I here tormented lye ! 

Of whom high love wont whylgme feasted bee ; 

Lo, here I now for want of food doe dye ! 

But, if that thou be such as I thee see, ^ 

Of grace I pray thee give to eat and drinke to mee !" 

** Kay, nay, thou greedy Tantalus," quoth he, 

" Abide the fortune of thy present fate ; 

And, unto all that live in high degree, 

Ensample be of mind intemperate. 

To teach them how to use their present state/* 

Then gan the cursed wretch alowd to cry. 

Accusing highest love and gods ingrate ; 

And eke blaspheming heaven bitterly, 

As author of uniustice, there to let him dye. 

He lookt a litle further, and espyde 

Another wretch, whose carcas deepe was drent 

Within the river which the same did hyde : 

But both his handes most filthy feculent. 

Above the water were on high extent. 

And faynd to wash themselves incessantly. 

Yet nothing cleaner were for such intent. 

But rather fowler seemed to the eye ; 

So lost his labour vaine and ydle industry. 

The knight, him calling, asked who ho was ? 

Who, lifting up his head, him answerd thus ; 

" I Pilate am, the falsest iudge, alas ! 

And most uniust ; that, by unrightcoua 

And wicked doome, to lewes despiteous 

Delivered up the Lord of Life to dye, 

And did acquite a murdrer felon ous ; ^ 

The whiles my handes I washt in ])urity, 

The whiles my soule was soyld with fowle iniquity." 



202 THE FAERIE QUEEKB. 

Infinite moe tormented in like paine 

He there beheld, too long here to be told : 

Ne Mammon would there let him long remayne, 

For terrour of the tortures manifold, 

In which the damned soules he did behold, 

But roughly him bespake : " Thou fearefull foole. 

Why takest not of that same fruite of gold ? 

Ne sittest downe on that same silver stoole. 

To rest thy weary person in the shadow coole?** 

All which he did to do him deadly fall 

In frayle intemperaunce through sinfull bayt ; 

To which if he inclyned had at all, 

That dreadfuU feend, which did behinde Jiim wayt. 

Would him have rent in thousand peeces strayt : 

But he was wary wise in all his way, 

A-nd wel perceived his deceitfuU sleight, 

Ne sufFred lust his safety to betray : 

Bo goodly did beguile the guyler of his pray. 

And now he has so long remained theare. 

That vitall powres gan wexe both weake and wan 

For want of food and sleepe, which two upbeare. 

Like mightie pillours, this frayle life of man. 

That none without the same enduren can : 

For now three dayes of men were full outwrought. 

Since he this hardy enterprize began : 

Forthy great Mammon fayrely he besought 

Into the world to guyde him backe, as he him brought. 

The god, though loth, yet was constra3aid t* obay ; 

For lenger time, then that, no living wight 

Below the earth might suffred be to stay i 

So backe againe him brought to living light. 

But all so soone as his enfeebled spright 

Gan sucke this vitall ayre into his brest, 

As overcome with too exceeding might, 

The life did flit away out of her nest, 

And all his sences were with deadly fit oppresi; 



THE FAEEIB QTTEENB. 203 



CANTO vm. 

Sir Guyon, layd in swowne, is by 

Aerates sonnes despoyld ; 
Whom Arthure soone hath reskewed. 

And Faynim brethren foyld. 

And is there care in heaven ? And is there love 
In heavenly spirits to these creatures bace, 
That may compassion of their evils move ? 
There is : — else much more wretched were the cace 
Of men then beasts : but O !^ th' exceeding grace 
Of highest God, that loves his creatures so, 
And all his workes with mercy doth embrace, 
That blessed angels he sends to and fro. 
To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe I 

How oft do they their silver bowers leave 

To come to succour us that succour want ! 

How oft do they with golden pineons cleave 

The flitting skyes, like flying pursuivant, 

Against fowle feendes to ayd us militant ! 

They for us fight, they watch and dewly ward, 

And their bright squadrons round about us plant; 

And all for love and nothing for reward : 

O, why should Hevenly God to men have such regard! 

During the while that Guyon did abide 

In Mammons house, the palmer, whom whyleare 

That wanton mayd of passage had denide. 

By further search had passage found elsewhere 5 

And, being on his way, approached neare 

Where Guyon lay in traunce ; when suddeioly 

He heard a voyce that called lowd and cleare, 

" Come hether, come hether, O ! come hastily 1" 

That all the fields resounded with the ruefull cry. 

The pahner lent his eare unto the noyce, 

To weet who called so importunely : 

Againe he heard a more efibrced voyce. 

That bad him come in haste : he by and by 

His feeble feet directed to the cry; 

Which to that shady delve him brought at last, 

Where Mammon earst did sunne his threasury: 

There the good Guyon he found slumbring fast 

In senceles dreame ; which sight at first him sore aghast. 



204 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Beside Ms Iiead tliere satt a faire young man, 
Of wondrous beauty and of fresliest yeares, 
Whose tender bud to blossome new began, 
And florisli faire above his equall peares : 
His snowy front, curled with golden heares, 
Like Phoebus face adornd with sunny rayes, 
Divinely shone ; and two sharp e winged sheares. 
Decked with'diverse plumes, like painted jayes, 
Were fixed at his backe to cut his ayery wayes. 

Like as Cupido on Idsean hill, 

When having laid his cruell bow away 

And mortall arrowes, wherewith he doth fill 

The world with murdrous spoiles and bloody pray. 

With his faire mother he him dights to play. 

And with his goodly sisters, Graces three ; 

The goddesse, pleased with his wanton play, 

Suffers herselfe through sleepe beguild to bee. 

The whiles the other ladies mind theyr mery glee. 

Whom when the palmer saw, abasht he was 

Through fear and wonder, that he nought could say. 

Till him the childe bespoke ; " Long lackt, alas, 

Hath bene thy faithfull aide in hard assay I 

Whiles deadly fitt thy pupill doth dismay. 

Behold this heavy sight, thou reverend sire ! 

But dread of death and dolor doe away ; 

For life ere long shall to her home retire. 

And he that breathlesse seems shal corage bold respira 

" The charge, which God doth unto me arrett. 

Of his deare safety I to thee commend ; 

Yet wiR I not forgoe, ne yet forgett 

The care thereof myselfe unto the end. 

But evermore him succour, and defend 

Against his foe and mine : watch thou, I pray; 

For evill is at hand him to offend." 

So having said, eftsoones he gan display 

His painted nimble wings, and vanisht quite away. 

The palmer seeing his lefte empty place. 
And his slow eies beguiled of their sight, 
Woxe sore afraid, and standing still a space 
Gaz'd after him, as fowle escapt by flight : 
At last, him turning to his charge behight. 
With trembhng hand his troubled pulse gan try; 
Where finding life not yet dislodged quight. 
He much reioyst, and courd it tenderly, 
As chicken newly hacht, from dreaded destiny. 



THE PAEBIE QUEENE. 205 

At last he spide where towards him did pace^ 

Two Paynim knights al armd as bright as skie. 

And them beside an aged sire did trace, 

And far before a light-foote page did flie,^ 

That breathed strife and troublous enmitie. 

Those were the two sonnes of Aerates old. 

Who, meeting earst with Archimago slie 

Toreby that Idle Strond, of him were told 

That he, which earst them combatted, was Guyon bold. 

Which to avenge on him they dearly vowd, 
Whereever that on ground they mote him findt 
[False Archimage provokt their corage prowd. 
And stryful Atin in their stubborne mind 
Coles of contention and whot vengeaunce tind. 
"Now bene they come whereas the palmer sate, 
Keeping that slombred corse to him assind: 
Well knew they both his person, sith of lato 
With him in bloody armes they rashly did debate. 

Whom when Pyrochles saw, inflam'd with rage 
That sire he fowl bespake; " Thou dotard vile. 
That with thy brutenesse shendst thy comely age, 
Abandon soone, I read, the caytive spoile 
Of that same outcast carcas, that erewhile 
Made itselfe famous through false trechery, 
And crownd his coward creat with knightly stile; 
Loe I where he now inglorious doth lye. 
To proove he lived il, that did thus fowly dye.*' 

To whom the palmer fearlesse answered; 

** Certes, sir knight, ye bene too much to blame, 

Thus for to blott the honor of the dead. 

And with fowle cowardize his carcas shame 

Whose living handes immortalizd his name. 

Yile is the vengeaunce on the ashes cold; 

And envy base to barke at sleeping fame : 

Was never wight that treason of him told ; 

Yourselfe his prowesse prov'd, and found him Hers and bold.** 

Then sayd Cymochles; "Palmer, thou doest dote, 
Ne canst of prowesse ne of knighthood deeme, 
Save as thou seest or hearst: but well I wote, 
That of ks puissaunce tryall made extreme: 
Yet gold nil is not that doth golden seeme; 
Ne al good knights that shake well speare and shield : 
The worth of all men by their end esteeme; 
And then dew praise or dew reproch them yield: 
Bad therefore I liim deeme that thus lies dead on field.'* 
10 



206 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

" G-ood OP bad," gan his brother fiers reply, 

" "\V]iat do I recke-, sitli tliat lie dide entire ? 

Or what doth his bad death now satisfy 

The greedy hnnger of revenging yre, 

Sith wrathful! hand wrought not her owne desire? 

Yet, since no way is lefte to wreake my spight, 

I will him reave of armes, the victors hire, 

And of that shield, more worthy of good knight; 

For -why should a dead dog be deckt in armour bright ?" 

" Fayr sir," said then the palmer supphaunt, 

" For knighthoods love doe not so fowle a deed, 

IN'e blame your honor with so shamefull vaunt 

Of vile revenge: to spoile the dead of weed 

Is sacrilege, and doth all sinnes exceed: 

Eut leave these rehcks of his living might 

To decke his herce, and trap his tomb-blacke steed." 

** What herce or steed," said he, " should he have dight, 

But be entombed in the raven or the kight?" 

With that, rude hand upon his shield he laid. 

And th' other brother gan his helme unlace; 

Both fiercely bent to have him disaraid : 

Till that they spyde where towards them did pace 

An armed knight, of bold and bounteous grace. 

Whose squire bore after him an heben launce 

And coverd shield: well kend.him so far space 

Th' enchaunter by his armes and amenaunce, 

When under him he saw his Lybian steed to prauAce j 

And to those brethren sayd; "Eise, rise bylive, 

A4id unto batteiL doe yourselves addresse; 

For yonder comes the prowest knight alive. 

Prince Arthur, flowre of grace and nobiiesse, ^ 

That hath to Paynim knights -^vrought gret distresse. 

And thousand Sar zins fowly donne to dye." 

That word so deepe did in their harts impresse. 

That both eftsoones upstarted furiously, 

And gan themselves prepare to batteill greedily. 

But fiers Pyrochles, lacking his owne sword. 
The want thereof now greatly gan to plaine. 
And Archimage besought, him that afford 
Which he had brought for Braggadochio vaine. 
" So would I," said th' enchaunter, " glad and faine 
Beteeme to you this sword, you to defend. 
Or ought that els your honour might maintainej 
But that this weapons powre I well have kend 
To be contrary to the w^orke which ye intend: 



THE PAEBIB QXTEENE. 20? 

"For tliat same knigMs owne sword this is, of yore 

Which Merlin made by his almightie art 

For that his noursling, when he knighthood swore. 

Therewith to doen his foes eternall smart. 

The metall first he mixt with medsDwart, 

That no enchauntment from his dint might save; 

Then it in flames of Aetna wrought apart. 

And seven times dipped in the bitter wave 

Of heUish Styx, which hidden vertue to it gave. 

'* The vertue is, that nether Steele nor stone 

The stroke thereof from entraunce may defend; 

]N"e ever may be used by his fone ; 

INTe forst his rightfull owner to offend; 

Ne ever will it breake, ne ever bend; 

Wherefore Morddure it rightfully is hight. 

In vaine, therefore, Pyrochles, should I lend 

The same to thee, against his lord to fight; 

For sure yt would deceive thy labor and thy might." 

** Foolish old man," said then the Pagan wroth, 

'* That weenest words or charms may force withstond. 

Soone shalt thou see, and then beleeve for troth, 

That I can carve with this inchaunted brond 

His lords owne flesh.'* Therewith out of his hond 

That vertuous Steele he rudely snatcht away; 

And Guyons shield about his wrest he bond: 

So ready diglit, fierce battaile to assay, 

And match his brother proud in. battailous aray. 

By this, that straunger knight in presence came, 

And goodly salved them; who nought againe 

Him answered, as courtesie became; 

But with sterne lookes, and stomachous disdaine. 

Gave signes of grudge and discontentment vaine: 

Then, turning to the palmer, he gan spy 

Where at his feet, with sorrowful! demayne 

And deadly hew, an armed corse did lye. 

In whose dead face he redd great magnanimity. 

Said he then to the palmer; "Eeverend syre, 

What great misfortune hath betidd this knight? 

Or did his life her fatall date expyre, 

Or did he fall by treason, or by fight? 

However, sure I rew his pitteous plight." 

** JSTot one, nor other," sayd the palmer grave, 

*' Hath him befalne; but cloudes of deadly night 

Awliile his heavy eyelids cover'd have, 

hxA all his sences drowned in deep sencelesse wave: 



208 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

" Wliicli tliose Ills cruell foes, that stand hereby. 

Making advantage, to revenge tlieir spight, 

AYoTild him disarme and treaten shamefully; 

Unworthie usage of redoubted knight! 

But you, faire sir, whose honourable sight 

Doth promise hope of helpe and timely grace. 

Mote I beseech to succour his sad plight, 

And by your powre protect his feeble cace ! 

First prayse of knighthood is, fowle outrage to deface.' 

" Palmer," said he, " no knight so rude, I weene, 

As to doen outrage to a sleeping ghost: 

Ne was there ever noble cor age scene, 

That in advauntage would his puissaunce host : 

Honour is least, where oddes appeareth most. 

May bee, that better reason will aswage 

The rash revengers heat. Words, well dispost, 

Have secrete powre t' appease inflamxcd rage: 

If not, leave unto me thy knights last patronage.** 

Tho, turning to those brethren, thus bespoke ; 
. " Ye warlike payre, whose valorous great might. 
It seemes, iust wronges to vengeaunce doe provoke. 
To wreake your wrath on this dead-seeming knight. 
Mote ought allay the storme of your despight. 
And settle patience in so furious heat ? 
"Not to debate the chalenge of your right, 
But for his carkas pardon I entreat. 
Whom fortune hath already laid in lowest seat.** 

To whom Cymochles said; "For what art thou. 
That mak'st thyselfe his dayes-man, to prolong 
The vengeaunce prest ? Or who shall let me now 
On this vile body from to wreak my wrong, 
And make his carkas as the outcast dong P 
Why should not" that dead carrion satisfye 
The guilt, which, if he lived had thus long, 
His life for dew revenge should deare abye ? 
The trespass still doth live, albee the person dye.** 

" Indeed," then said the prince, " the evill donno 

Dyes not, when breath the body first doth leave ; 

But from the grandsyre to the nephewes sonne 

And all his seede the curse doth often cleave. 

Till vengeaunce utterly the guilt bereave: 

So streightly God doth iudge. But gentle knight. 

That doth against the dead his hand upreare. 

His honour staines with rancour and despight. 

And great disparagment makes to his former might,'* 



THE FAEEIE QtTEENE. 209 

P.rrocliles gan reply tlie second tyme, 

And to him said; "Now, felon, sure I read, 

How that thou arfc partaker of his cryme : 

Therefore by Termagaunt thou shalt be dead." 

With that, his hand, more sad than lomp of lead. 

Uplifting high, he weened with Morddure, 

His owne good sword Morddure, to cleave his head. 

The faithful! Steele such treason no'uld endure,^ 

But, swarving from the marke, his lordes life did assure. 

Yet was the force so furious and so fell, 

That horse and man it made to reele asyde: 

Nath'lesse the prince would not forsake his sell, 

(For well of yore he learned had to ryde,) 

But full of anger fiersly to him cryde; 

" False traitour, miscreaunt, thou broken hast 

The law of armes, to strike foe undefide : 

But thou th3^ treasons fruit I hope shall taste 

Bight sowre, and feele the law, the which thou hast defast,** 

With that his balefull speare he fiercely bent 

Against the Pagans brest, and therewith thought 

His cursed life out of her lodg have rent : 

But, ere the point arrived where it ought, 

That seven-fold shield, which he from Guy on brought, 

He cast between to ward the bitter stownd: 

Through all those foldes the steelehead passage wrought, 

And through his shoulder perst ; wherwith to ground 

He groveling fell, all gored in his gushing wound. 

Which when his brother saw, fraught with great griefo 

And wrath, he to him leaped furiously, 

And fowly saide ; " By Mahoune, cursed thiefe, 

That direfull stroke thou dearely shalt aby." 

TJien, hurling up his harmefull blade on hy, 

Smote him so hugely on his haughtie crest, 

That from his saddle forced him to fly : 

Els mote it needes downe to his manly brest 

Have cleft his head in twaine, and life thence dispossest. 

Now was the prince in daungerous distresse. 
Wanting his sword, when he on foot should fight s 
}Iis single speare could doe him small redresso 
Against two foes of so exceeding might, 
The least of which was match for any knight. 
And now the other, whom he earst did daunt, 
Had reard himselfe againe to cruel fight. 
Three times more furious and more puissaunt, 
Unmindfuil of his wound, of his fate iguorauat. 



210 THE FAEBIE QUEENB. 

So both attonce liim cliarge on eitlicr sydo 

With hideous strokes and importable powre, 

That forced him his ground to traverse wyde. 

And wisely watch to ward that deadly stowre : 

Por on his shield, as thicke as stormie showa^e, 

Their strokes did raine ; yet did he never quailc, 

Ne backward shrinke ; but as a stedfast towre, 

Whom foe with double battry doth assaile, 

Them on her bulwarke beares, and bids them nought availe. 

So stoutly he withstood their strong assay; 

Till tliat at last, when he advantage spyde, 

His poynant speare he thrust wdth puissant sway 

At proud Cymochles, whiles his shield was wyde, 

That through his thigh the mortall Steele did gryde; 

He, swarving with the force, within his flesh 

Did breake the launce, and let the head abyde : 

Out of the wound the red blood flowed fresh, 

That underneath his feet soone made a purple plesli. 

Horribly then he gan to rage and rayle, 

Cursing his gods, and himselfe damning deepe: 

Als when his brother saw the red blood rayle 

Adowne so fast, and all his armour steepe, 

For very felnesse lowd he gan to weepe. 

And said; " Caytive, curse on thy cruell bond, 

That twise hath spedd; yet shall it not thee keepe 

l^rom the third brunt of this my fatall brond : 

Lo, where the dreadfull Death behynd thybacke doth stoud!" 

With that he strooke, and th* other strooke with all, 

That nothing sccmd mote beare so monstrous might: 

The one upon his covered shield did fall, 

And glauncing downe w^ould not his owner byte: 

But til' other did upon his troncheon smyte; 

Which hewing quite asunder, further way 

It made, and on his hacqueton did ly te, 

The which dividing with importune sway, 

It seizd in his right side, and there the dint did stay. 

Wyde was the wound, and a large lukewarmc flood, 

Eed as the rose, thence gushed grievously ; 

That ^^'llen the Paynym spyde the streaming blood, 

Gave him great hart and hope of victory. 

On th' other side, in huge perplexity 

The prince now stood, having his w^eapon broke; 

Nought could he hurt, but still at warde did ly : 

Yet with his troncheon he so rudely stroke 

Cymochles twise, that twise him forst his foot revuke. 



THE FAERIE QTJEENE. 211 

Wliom when the palmer saw in such distresse. 

Sir Guyons sword he lightly to him rauglit, 

And said ; " Payre sonne, great God thy right hand blesse. 

To use that sword so well as he it ought !" 

Glad was the knight, and with fresh courage fraught, 

When as againe he armed felt his hond : 

Then like a lyon, which had long time saught 

His robbed whelpes, and at the last them fond [yond : 

Emongst the shepheard swaynes, then wexeth wood and 

So fierce he laid about him, and dealt blowes 

On either side, that neither mayle could hold, 

Ne shield defend the thunder of his throwes : 

Now to Pyrochles many strokes he told ; 

Eft to Cymochles twise so many fold; 

Then, backe againe turning his busie hond, 

Them both attonce compeld with courage bold 

To yield wide way to his hart-thrilling brond ; [stond. 

And though they both stood stiffe, yet could not both with- 

As salvage bull, whom two fierce mastives bayt, 

When rancour doth with rage him once engorge, 

Forgets with wary warde them to awayt. 

But with his dreadfuU homes them drives afore. 

Or flings aloft, or treades downe in the flore, 

Breathing out v/rath, and bellowing disdaine. 

That all the forest quakes to hear him rore : 

So rag'd Prince Arthur tw^ixt his foemen twaine, 

That neither could his mightie puissaunce sustaine. 

But ever at Pyrochles when he smitt, 
(Who Guyons shield cast ever him before. 
Whereon the Faery Queenes pourtract was writt,) 
His hand relented and the stroke forbore, 
And his deare hart the picture gan adore ; 
Which oft the Paynim sav'd from deadly stowre: 
But him henceforth the same can save no more ; 
For now arrived is his fatall howre, ^ 
That no'te avoyded be by earthly skill or powre. 

For when Cymochles saw the fowle reproch, . 

Which them appeached ; prickt with guiltie shame 

And inward griefe, he fiercely gan approch, 

Eesolv'd to put away that loathly blame. 

Or dye with honour and desert of fame; 

And on the haubergh stroke the prince so sore, 

That quite disparted all the linked frame. 

And pierced to the skin, but bit no more ; 

Yet made him twise to reele, that never moov*d afore. 



212 THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 

^^^ereat renfierst with wratli and sliarp regret. 

He stroke so hugely with his borrowcl blade, 

That it empierst the Pagans burganet ; 

And, cleaving the hard Steele, did deepe invade 

Into his head, and cruell passage made 

Quite through his brayne : he, tombling downe on ground, 

Ereath'd out his ghost, which, to th' infernall shade 

Fast ilyiug, there eternall torment found 

For all the sinnes wherewith his lewd hfe did abound. 

Which when his german saw, the stony feare 
[Ran to his hart, and all his sence dismayd ; 
Ne thenceforth life ne corage did ax)peare t 
But, as a man whom hellish feendes have frayd, 
Long trembling still he stoode ; at last thus sayd ; 
" Tray tour, what hast thou doen ! How ever may 
Thy cursed hand so cruelly have swayd 
Against that knight ! Harrow and well away ! 
After so wicked deede why liv'st thou lenger day!" 

With that all desperate, as loathing light, 

And with revenge desyring soone to dye, 

Assembling all his force and utmost might, 

"With his owne swerd he fierce at him did ilye. 

And strooke, and foynd, and lasht outrageously, 

Withouten reason or regard. Well knew 

The prince, with pacience and sufferaunce sly, 

So hasty heat soone cooled to subdew : 

Tho, when this breathlesse woxe, that battcil gan renew. 

As when a windy tempest bloweth hye, 
That nothing may withstand his stormy stowre. 
The clovrdes, as thinges affrayd, before him flye; 
[But, all so soone as his outrageous powre 
Is layd, they fiercely then begin to showre : 
. And; as in scorne of his spent stormy spight, 
ISTow all attonce their malice forth do poure : 
So did Prince Arthur beare himselfe in fight, 
And sufired rash Pyrochles waste his ydle might. 

At last whenas the Sarazin perceiv'd 

How that straunge sword refusd to serve his neede, 

But, when he stroke most strong, the dint deceiv'dj 

He flong it from him ; and, devoyd of dreed, 

Upon him lightly leaping without heed, 

Twixt his two mighty armes en grasped fast, 

Thinking to overthrowe and downe him tred : 

But him in strength and skill the prince surpast, 

And through his nimble sleight did under him down casi 



THE FAEKIE QTJEENE. 213 

Nouglifc booted it the Paynim tlien to strive ; 

For as a bittur in the eagles clawe,. 

That may not hope by flight to scape alive, 

Still waytes for 'death with dread and trembling aw; 

So he, now subject to the vie tours law,^ 

Did not once move, nor upward cast his eye, 

For vile disdaine and rancour, which did gnaw 

His hart in twaine with sad melancholy ; 

As one that loathed life, and yet despysed to dye. 

Bat, full of princely bounty and great mind. 

The conqueror nought cared him to slay;^ 

But, casting wronges and all revenge behind, 

More glory thought to give life then decay. 

And sayd; " Paynim, this is thy dismall day; 

Yet if thou wilt renounce thy miscreaunce. 

And my true liegeman yield thyselfe for ay, 

Life will I graunt thee for thy valiaunce, 

And all thy wronges will wipe out of my sovenaunce.** 

" Foole," said the pagan, " I thy gift defye; 

But use thy fortune, as it doth befall; 

And say, that I not overcome doe dye. 

But in despight of life for death doe call." 

Wroth was the prince, and sory yet withall. 

That he so wilfully refused grace ; 

Yet, sith his fate so cruelly did fall, 

His shining helmet he gan soone unlace, 

And lefte his headlesse body bleeding all the place. 

By tliis. Sir Guyon from his traunce awakt. 

Life having maystered her senceless foe ; 

And looking up, whenas his shield he lakt 

And sword saw not, he wexed wondrous woe u 

But when the palmer, whom he long ygoe 

Had lost, he by him spyde, right glad he grew. 

And saide ; " Deare sir, whom wandring to and fro 

I long have lackt, I ioy thy face to vew I 

Firme is thy faith, whom daunger never fro me drew. 

" But read what wicked hand hath robbed mee 

Of my good sword and shield ?'* The palmer, glad 

With so fresh hew uprysing him to see. 

Him answered : " Fayre sonne, be no whit sad 

For want of weapons ; they shall soone be had." 

So gan he to discourse the whole debate. 

Which that straunge knight for him sustained had. 

And those two Sarazins confounded late. 

Whose carcases on ground were horribly prostrate. 



214 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

Wliicli wlien he lieard, and saw tlie tokens trow. 
His hart with great arfection was embayd, 
And to the prince, with bowing reverence dew. 
As to the patrone of his life, thus sayd; 
** My lord, my liege, by whose most gratious ayd 
I live this day, and see my foes subdewd, 
What may suffice to be for meede repayd 
Of so great graces as ye have me shewd, 
But to be ever bound" — 

To whom tlie infant thus : "Fayre sir, what need 
Good turnes bo counted, as a servile bond, 
To bind their dooers to receive their meed ? 
Are not all knightes by oath bound to withstond 
Oppressours powre by armes and puissant bond ? 
Suffise, that I have done my dew in place." 
So goodly purpose they together fond 
Of kindnesse and of courteous aggrace; 
The whiles false Archimage and Atin fled apaca. 



CAJSTTO IX. 

The ITouse of Temperaunce, in which 
. Doth sober Alma dwell, 
Besiegd of many foes, whom straunge- 
er knightes to flight compell. 

Of all Gods workes, which, doe this worlde adoma, 

There is no one more faire and excelient^ 

Then is mans body, both for powre and forme. 

Whiles it is kept in sober government ; 

Eut none then it more fowle and indecent, 

Distempred through misrule and passions bace; 

It grows a monster, and incontinent 

Doth lose his dignity and native grace: 

Behold, who list, both one and other in this place. 

After the Paynim brethren conquer'd were, 

The Briton prince recov'ring his stolne ST^ord, 

And Guyon his lost shield, they both yfere 

Forth passed on their way in fayre accord, 

Till him the prince with gentle court did bord; 

" Sir knight, mote I of you this court'sy read, 

To weet why on your shield, so goodly scord, 

Beare ye the picture of that ladies head? 

Full lively is the semblaunt, though the substance dead.' 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 215 

"Fayre sir,** sayd he, "if in that picture dead 

Such Hfe ye read, and yertue in vaine shew; 

What mote ye weene, if the trew lively-head 

Of that most glorious visage ye did vew ! 

But yf the beauty of her mind ye knevr. 

That is, her bounty, and imperiall powre, 

Thousand times fairer then her mortall hew, 

O ! how great wonder would your thoughts devoure. 

And infinite desire into your spirite poure ! 

" She is the mighty Queene of Faery, 
Whose faire retraitt I in my shield doe beare; 
Shee is the ilowre of grace and chastity, 
Throuo'hout the world renowmed far and neare. 
My life, my liege, my soveraine, my deare. 
Whose glorj^ shineth as the morning starre, 
And with her light the earth enlumines cleare; 
Far reach her mercies, and her praises farre, 
As well in state of peace, as puissaunce in warre." 

" Thrise happy man," said then the Briton knight, 
" Whom gracious lott and thy great valiaunce 
Have made thee soldier of that princesse bright, 
Which with her bounty and glad countenaunce 
Doth blesse her servaunts, and them high advaunce ! 
How may straunge knight hope ever to aspire. 
By faithfull service and meete amenaunce 
Unto such blisse ? sufficient were that liire 
For losse of thousand hves, to die at her desire/* 

Said Guyon, " Noble lord, what meed so great. 

Or grace of earthly prince so soveraine, 

But by your wondrous worth and warlike feat 

Ye well may hope, and easely attaine ? 

But were your will her sold to entertaine. 

And numbred be niongst Knights of Maydenhed, 

Great guerdon, well I wote, should you remaine. 

And in her favor high bee reckoned. 

As Arthegall and Sophy now beene honored.*' 

" Certes,** then said the prince, " I God avow, 
That sith I armes and knighthood first did plight, 
My whole desire hath beene, and yet is now, 
To serve that queene with al my powre and might. 
Now hath the sunne with his lamp-burning ligiit 
Walkt round about the world, and I no Icsse, 
Sith of that goddessc I have sought the sight, 
Yet no where can her find: such happinesse 
Hcven doth to me envy and fortune lavoui-lesse.** 



216 THE FAEBIE QTTEEJTB. 

" Fortune, tlie foe of famqxis chevisaiiiice, 
Seldom," said Guy on, " yields to vertue aide. 
But in her way tlirowes miscliiefe and miscliaiince, 
THiereby lier course is stopt and passage staid. 
But you, faire sir, be not herewith dismaid. 
But constant keepe the way in which ye stand ; 
TVTiich were it not that I am els delaid 
"With hard adventure, which I have in hand, 
I labour would to guide you through al Fary land.** 

" Gramercy Bir," said he ; **but mote I weete 
"What straunge adventure doe ye now pursew ? 
Perhaps my succour or advizement meete 
Mote stead yon much your purpose tc subdew.** 
Then gan Sir Guyon all the story shew 
Of false Acrasia, and her wicked wiles ; 
"Which to avenge, the palmer him forth drew 
From Faery court. So talked they, the whiles 
They wasted had much way, and measurd many miles. 

And now faire Phoebus gan decline in haste 

His weary wagon to the westeme vale, 

"Whenas they spide a goodly castle, plaste 

Foreby a river in a pleas aunt dale: 

"Which choosing for that evenings hospitale,^ 

They thether marcht : but when they came in sight. 

And from their sweaty coursers did avale, 

They found the gates fast barred long ere night. 

And every loup fast lockt, as fearing foes despight. 

WTiich when they saw, they weened fowle reproch 
Was to them doen, their entraunce to forstaU; 
Till that the squire gan nigher to approch. 
And wind his horne under the castle wall. 
That with the noise it shooke as it would fall. 
Eftsoones forth looked from the highest spire 
The watch, and lowd unto the knights did call. 
To weete what they so rudely did require : 
Who gently answered, they entraunce did desire. 

" Fly, fly, good knights," said he, " fly fast awa^-. 

If that your Hves ye love, as meete ye should ; 

Fly fast, and save yourselves from neare decay ; 

Here may ye not have entraunce, though we would : 

We would and would againe, if that we could ; 

But thousand enemies about us rave. 

And with long siege ns in this castle hould : 

Seven yeares this wize they us besieged have. 

And many good knights slaine that have us sought to save. ' 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 217 

Tlins as he spoke, loe ! with outragious cry 
A thousand villeins roTvnd about them swannd 
Out of the rockes and caves adioyning nye ; 
Vile caitive wretches, ragged, rude, deformd, 
All threatning death, all in straunge manner armd ; 
Some with unweldy clubs, some with long speares. 
Some rusty knives, some staves in fier warmd : 
Sterne was their looke ; like wild amazed steares. 
Staring with hollow eies, and stiff upstanding heares. 

Piersly at first those knights they did assayle, 

And drove them to recoile : but, when againe 

They gave fresh charge, their forces gan to fayle, 

TJnhable their encounter to sustaine ; 

For with such puissaunce and impetuous maine 

Those champions broke on them, that forst them fly, 

Like scattered sheepe, whenas the shepherds swaine 

A lion and a tigre doth espye 

With greedy pace forth rushing from the forest nye. 

A while they fled, but soone retoumd againe 

"With greater fury then before was found ; 

And evermore their crueK capitaine 

Sought with his raskall routs t'enclose them rownd. 

And overronne to tread them to the grownd:^ , 

But soone the knights with their bright-burning blades 

Broke their rude troupes, and orders did confownd, 

Hewing and slashing at their idle shades ; [fades. 

For though they bodies seem, yet substaiince from them 

As when a swarme of gnats at eventide 
Out of the fennes of Allan doe arise, 
Tlieir murmuring small trompetts sownden wide. 
Whiles in the aire their clustring army flies, 
That as a cloud doth seeme to dim the skies; 
Ne man nor beast may rest or take repast 
For their sharpe wounds and noyous. iniuries. 
Till the fierce northerne wind with blustring blast 
Doth blow them quite away, and in the ocean cast. 

Thus when they had that troublous rout disperst. 
Unto the castle gat« they come againe, - 
And entraunce crav'd, which was denied erst. 
Now when report of that their perlous paine. 
And combrous conflict wliich they did susfaine, 
Came to the ladies eare Avhich there did dwell, 
Shee forth issewed with a goodly traine 
Of squires and ladies equipagcd well, 
And entertained them right iaii'cly, as bcfcU. 



218 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Alma she called was; a virgin bright, 
That had not yet felt Cupides waoton rage; 
Yet was shee woo'd of many a gentle knight. 
And man.y a lord of noble parentage. 
That sought with her to lincke in marriage: 
Tor shee was faire, as faire mote ever bee. 
And in the flowre now of her freshest age; 
Yet full of grace and goodly modestee. 
That even heven reioyced her sweete face to see. 

In robe of lilly white she was arayd. 

That from her shoulder to her heele downe raught; 

The traine whereof loose far behind her strayd, 

BrauDchedwith gold and perle miost richly wrouglit, 

-And borne of two faire damsels which were taught 

That service well : her yellow golden heare 

Was trimly woven, and in tresses wrought, 

Ne other tire she on her head did weare, 

But crowned with a garland of sweete rosiere. 

Goodly shee entertaind those noble knights, 

And brought them up into her castle hall; 

AYhere gentle court and gracious delight 

Shee to them made, with mildnesse virginall, 

Shewing herselfe both wise and liberall. 

There when they rested had a season dew. 

They her besought of favour speciall 

Of that faire castle to affoord them vew: 

Shee graunted; and, them leading forth, the same did shew. 

First she them led up to the castle wall, 

That was so high as foe might not it chme, 

And all so faire and fensible withall; 

Kot built of bricke, ne yet of stone and lime, 

But of thing Lke to that j3Egyptian slime, 

"Whereof king Nine whilome built Babell towre 

But O ^reat pitty, that no lenger time 

So goodly workmanship should not endure ! 

Soone it must turne to earth: no earthly thing is sure. 

The frame thereof seemd partly circulare. 
And part triangulare: O worke divine ! 
Those two the first and last proportions are; 
The one imperfect, mortall, foeminine; 
Th' other immortall, perfect, masculine; 
And twixt them both a quadrate was the base, 
Proportiond equally by seven and nine; 
J^me was the circle sett in heavens place: 
All which compacted, made a goodly diapase. 



THE FAEBIB QTJEENE. 219 

Therein two gates were placed seemly well: 

The oiiQ before, by which all in did pas. 

Did th'other far in workmanship excell; 

For not of Tvood, nor of enduring bras, 

Bat of more worthy substance fram'd it was: 

Doubly disparted, it did locke and close, 

That, when it locked, none might thorough pas. 

And, when it opened, no man might it close ; 

Still opened to their friendes, and closed to their foea. 

Of hewen stone the porch was fayrely wrought, 
Stone more of valew, and more smooth and line. 
Then ictt or marble far from Ireland brought; 
Over the which was cast a wandring vine, 
Enchaced with a wanton yvie twine : 
And over it a fayre portcullis hong, 
Which to the gate directly did incline 
With comely compasse and compacture strong, 
Nether unseemly short, nor yet exceeding long. 

Within the barbican a porter sate, ^ 

Day and night duely keeping watch and ward; 

Nor wight nor word mote passe out of the gate, 

But in good order, and with dew regard; 

Utterers of secrets he from thence debard, 

Bablers of folly, and blazers of cryme: 

His larumbell might lowd and wyde be hard 

When cause requyrd, but never out of time ; 

Early and late it rong, at evening and at prime. 

And rownd about the porch on every syde 
Twise sixteene warders satt, all armed bright 
In glistring Steele, and strongly fortifyde : 
Tali yeomen seemed they and of great might. 
And were enraunged ready still for fight. 
By them as Alma iDassed with her guestes. 
They did obeysaunce, as beseemed right. 
And then againe retourned to their restes: 
The porter eke to her did lout with humble gestesu 

Thence she them brought into a stately hall. 
Wherein were many tables fayre dispred. 
And ready dight with drapets festivall, 
Against the viaundes should be ministred. 
At th' upper end there sate, yclad in red 
Downe to the ground, a comely personage, 
That in his hand a white rod mcnaged ; 
He steward was, hight Diet ; rypc of age, 
And in demcanure sober, and in counsel! sage. 



220 THE FAEEIE QITEENE. 

And througli the liall tliere walked to and fro- 

A ioUy yeoman, marshall of the same, 

Whose name was Appetite ; he did bestow 

Both guestes and meate, whenever in they came. 

And knew them how to order without blame. 

As him the steward badd. They both attone 

Did dewty to their lady, as became; 

Who, passing by, forth ledd her guestes anone 

Into the kitciiin rowme, ne spard for nicenesse none^ 

It was a vaut ybuilt for great dispence, 

With many raunges reard along the wall, 

And one great chimney, whose long tonuell thence 

The smoke forth threw: and in the midst of all 

There placed was a caudron wide and tall 

Upon a mightie fornace, burning whott, 

More whott then Aetn', or flaming Mongiball: 

For day and night it brent, ne ceased not, 

So long as any thing it in the caudron gott. 

Buivto delay the heat, least by mischaunce 

It might breake out and set the whole on fyre, 

There added was by goodly ordinaunce 

An huge great payre of bellowes, which did styre 

Continually, and cooling breath inspyre. 

About the caudron many cookes accoyld 

With hookes and ladles, as need did requ3Te; 

The whyles the viaundes in the vessell boy Id, 

They did about their businesse sweat, and sorely toy Id,. 

The maister cooke was cald Concoction; 
A carefullman, and full of comely guyse; 
The kitchin clerke, thathight Digestion, 
Did order all th' achates in seemely wise. 
And set them forth, as well he could devise. 
The rest had severall offices assynd; 
Some to remove the scum as it did rise ; 
Others to beare the same away did mynd; 
And others it to use according to his kynd. 

But all the liqueur, which was fowle and waste, 
ISTot good nor serviceable elles for ought, 
Tliey in another great rownd vessell plaste. 
Till by a conduit pipe it thence were brought ; 
And all the rest, that noyous was and nought. 
By secret wayes, that none might it espy, 
Was close convaid, and to the backgate brought. 
That cleped was Port Esquiline, whereby 
It was avoided quite, and throwne out privily. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 221 

Wliicli goodly order and great workmans still 

Wlienas those knights beheld, with rare delight 

And gazing wonder they their mindes did fill; 

For never had they seene so straunge a sight. 

Thence backe againe faire Alma led them right. 

And soone into a goodly parlour brought, 

That was with royall arras richly dight. 

In which was nothing poiirtrahed nor wrought; 

IN'ot wrought nor poiirtrahed, but easie to be thought: 

And in the midst thereof upon the floure 

A lovely bevy of faire ladies sate, 

Courted of many a iolly paramoure, 

The which them did in modest wise amate, 

And each one sought his lady to aggrate: 

And eke emongst them little Cupid playd 

His wanton sportes, being retourned late 

From his fierce warres, and having from him layd 

His cruell bow, wherewith he thousands hath dismayd. 

Diverse delights they fownd themselves to please; 

Some song in sweet consort; some laught for ioy; 

Some plaid with strawes; some ydly satt at ease; 

I3at others some could not abide to toy, 

All pleasaunce was to them griefe and annoy: 

This fround; that faund; the third for shame did blush; 

Another seemd envious, or coy ; 

Another in' her teeth did gnaw a rush: 

Eut at these straungers presence every one did hush, 

Soone as the gracious Alma came in place, 

They all attonce out of their seates arose, 

And to her homage niade with humble grace: 

Whom w^hen the knights beheld, they gan dispose 

Tliem selves to court, and each a damzell chose: 

The princeby chaunce did on a lady light, 

That was right faire and fresh as morning rose, 

But somewhat sad and solemne eke in sight. 

As if some pensive thought constraind her gentle spriglit. 

In a long purple pall, whose skirt with gold 

Was fretted all about, she was arayd; 

And in lier hand a "poplar braunch did hold: 

To whom the prince in courteous manersaj^d; 

" Gentle Madame, why beenc ye thus dismayd, 

And your faire beautie doe with sadnes spill? 

Lives any that you hath this ill apayd? 

Or doen you love, or doen you lack your will? 

Whatever bee the cause^ it sure besbemcs you ill." 



222 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

** Payre sir,*' said slie, lialfe in disdaineful wise, 

"^' How is it that this word in me ye blame. 

And in yourselfe doe not the same advise? 

Him ill beseemes aiiothers fault to name, 

That may unwares be blotted with the same: 

Pensive I yeeld I am, and sad in mind, 

Through great desire of glory and of fame; 

Ne ought I weene are ye therein behynd, [Ir.id." 

That have twelve months sought one, yet no where can her 

The prince was inly moved at her speach, 

Well weeting trew what she had rashly told; 

Yet with faire semblaunt sought to hyde the breach 

Which channge of colour did perforce unfold, 

Now seeming flaming whott, now stony cold: 

Tho, turning soft aside, he didinquyre 

What wight she was that poplar braunch did hold s 

It answered was, her name was Prays-desire, 

That by well doing sought to honour to aspyre. 

The whiles the Faery knight did entertaine 

Another damsell of that gentle crew. 

That was right fayre and modest of demayne. 

Put that too oft she chaung'd her native hew : 

Strauuge was her tyre, and all her garment blew. 

Close rownd about her tuckt with many a plight: 

Upon her fist the bird which shonneth vew. 

And keeps in coverts close from living wight, 

Did sitt, as yet ashamd how rude Pan did her dight. 

So long as Guyon with her communed, 

Unto the grownd she cast her modest eye. 

And ever and anone with rosy red 

The bashfull blood her snowy cheekes did dye. 

That her became as polisht yvory 

Which cunning craftesman hand hath averlayd 

With fayre vermilion or pure castory. 

Great wonder had the knight to see the mayd 

So strauugely passioned, and to her gently said; 

" Payre damzell, seemeth by your troubled cheare. 

That either me too bold ye weene, this wise 

You to molest, or other ill to feare 

That in the secret of your hart close lye^, 

Prom whence it doth, as cloud from sea, aryso: 

If it be I, of pardon I you pray; 

Put, if ought else that I mote not devyse, 

I wiD, if please you it discure, assay 

To ease you of that ill, so wisely as I may." 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 223 

Slie answerd nought, but more abaslit for shame 
Held downe her head, the whiles her lovely f aco 
The flashing blood with blushing did inflanie, 
And the strong passion mard her modest grace, 
That Guyon mervayld at her uncouth cace ;' 
Till Alma him bespake; " Why wonder yee, 
Faire sir, at that which ye so much embrace ? 
She is the fountaine of your modestee; 
You shamefast are, but Shamefastnes itselfe is shoe.*' 

Thereat the Elfe did blush in privitee. 
And turnd his face away ; but she the sam© 
Dissembled faire, and faynd to oversee. 
Thus they awhile with court and goodly game 
Themselves did solace each one with his dame. 
Till that great lady thence away them sought 
To vew her castles other wondrous frame: 
Up to a stately turret she them brought, 
Ascending by' ten steps of alabaster wrought. 

That turrets frame most admirable was. 

Like highest heaven compassed around, 

And lifted high above this earthly masse, 

"Which it survewd, as hils doen lower ground: 

But not on ground mote like to this be found; ^ 

Not that, which antique Cadmus whylome builfc 

In Thebes, which Alexander did confound; 

Nor that proud towre of Troy, though richly guilt, [sj)iU. 

From which young Hectors blood by cruell Greckcs waa 

The roofe hereof was arched over head, 

And deckc with flowres and herbars daintily j 

Two goodly beacons, set in watches stead, 

Therein gave light, and flamd continually: 

For they of living fire most subtilly 

Were made, and set in silver sockets bright, 

Cover'd with lids deviz'd of substance sly, 

That readily they shut and open might. 

O, who can tell the prayses of that makers might ! 

Ne can I tell, ne can I stay to tell, 

This parts great workemanship and wondrous powro. 

That all this other worldes worke doth excell. 

And likest is unto that heavenly towre 

That God hath built for his owne blessed bowro. 

Therein were divers rowmes, and divers stages ; 

But three the chiefest and of greatest powre. 

In which there dwelt three honorable sages, 

The wisest men, I weeno, that lived in their ages. 



224 THE TAEEIE QUEEKE. 

'Not lie, wliom Greece, tlie nourse of all good arts, 
Ey Phoebus doome the wisest thougjit alive, 
Might be compar'd to these by many parts : 
NoY that sage Pylian syre, vrhich did survive 
Three ages, such as uiortall men contrive. 
By whose advise old Priam s cittie fell, 
^Yith tliese in praise of poliicies mote strive. 
Tliese three in these three rowmes did sondry dwell, 
And counselled faire Alma how to governe welL 

The first of them could things to come foresee ; 
The next could of thinges present best advize ; 
The third things past could keep in memoree : 
So that no time nor reason could arize, 
But that the same could one of these comprize. 
Forthy the first did in the forepart sit, 
That nought mote hinder his quicke preiudize; 
He had a sharpe foresight and working wit 
That never idle was, ne once would rest a whit. 

His chamber was dispainted all within 

With sondry colours, in the which were writ 

Infinite shapes of thinges dispersed thin ; 

Some such as in the world were never yit, 

N e can devized be of mortall wit ; 

Some daily seene and knowen by their names, 

Such as in idle fantasies do flit ; 

Infernall hags, centaurs, feendes, hippodames. 

Apes, lyons, aegies, owles, fooles, lovers, children, dames. 

And all the chamber filled was with flyes 
"Which buzzed all about, and made such sound 
That they enconibred all mens eares and eyes; 
Like many swarmes of bees assembled round. 
After their hives with honny do abound. 
All those were idle thoughtes and fantasies, 
Devices, dreames, opinions unsound, 
Shewes, visions, sooth-sayes, and prophesies , 
And all that fained is, as leasings, tales, and lies. 

Emongst them all sate he which wonned there, 
That hight Phantastes by his nature trew; 
A man of j^eares yet fresh, as mote appere. 
Of swarth complexion, and of crabbed hew, 
That him full of melancholy did shew; 
Bent hollow beetle browes, sharpe staring eyes 
That mad or foolish seemd : one by his vew 
Mote deeme him borne with ill-disposed skyes, 
When oblique Saturne sate in th' house of agcnycs. 



^HE FAERIE QUEENE. 225 

Wliom Alma having shewed to her guestes, 

Thence brought them to the second rowme, whose wals 

Were painted faire with niemorable gestes 

Of famous wisards; and with picturals 

Of magistrates, of courts, of tribunals. 

Of commen wealthes, of states, of pollicy, 

Of lawes, of iudgementes, and of decretals. 

All artes, all science, all philosophy, 

And all that in the world was ay thought wittily. 

Of those that rowme was full ; and them among 

There sate a man of ripe and perfect age, 

Who did them meditate all his life long, 

That through continuall practise and usage 

He now was growne right wise and wondrous sage : 

Great plesure had those straunger knightes to see 

His goodly reason and grave personage, 

That his disciples both desyrd to bee : 

But Alma thence them led to th' hindmost rowme of throe. 

That chamber seemed ruinous and old, 

And therefore was removed far behind, 

Yet were the wals, that did the same uphold, 

Bight firme and strong, though somwhat they declind; 

And therein sat an old old man, halfe blind. 

And all decrepit in his feeble corse. 

Yet lively vigour rested in his mind, 

And recompenst them with a better scorse : 

Weake body well is chang'd for minds redoubled forse. 

This man of infinite remembraunce was. 
And things foregone through many ages held. 
Which he recorded still as they did pas, 
Ne sufFred them to perish through long eld, 
As all things els the which this world doth weld; 
But laid them up in his immortall serine. 
Where they for ever incorrupted dweld : 
The warres he well remembred of king Nine, 
Of old Assaracus, andlnachus divine. 

The yeares of !N"estor nothing were to his, 

Ne yet Mathusalem, though longest liv'd ; 

For he remembred both their infancis : 

Ne wonder then if that he were deprived 

Of native strength now that he them surviv'd. 

His chamber all was hangd about with rolls 

And old records from auncient times derivd. 

Some made in books, some in long parchment scrolls. 

That were all worm-eaten and full of canker holes. 



226 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

Amidst tliem all lie in a cliaire was sett, 

Tossing and turning them withouten end; 

33ut for he was unhable them to fett, 

A Httle boy did on him still attend 

To reach, whenever he for ought did send ; 

And oft when thinges were lost, or laid amis, 

That boy tbem sought and unto him did lends 

Therefore he Anamnestes cleped is ; _ 

And that old man Eumnestes, by their propertis. 

The knightes there entring did him reverence dew. 

And wondred at his endlesse exercise. 

Then as they gan his library to vew. 

And antique regesters for to avise, 

There chaunced to the princes hand to rize 

An auncient booke, hight Briton Mojiiments, 

That of this lands first conquest did devize. 

And old division into regiments, 

Till it reduced was to one mans governements. 

Sir Guyon chaunst eke on another booke. 

That hight Antiquitee of Faery Lond: 

In which whenas he greedily did looke, 

Th' ofspring of Elves and Faryes there he fond, 

As it delivered was from hond to hond : 

Whereat they, burning both with fervent fire 

Their countreys auncestry to understond, 

Crav'd leave of Alma and that aged sire 

To read those bookes ; who gladly graunted their desire. 



CANTO X. 

A chronicle of Briton kings, 
From Brute to Uthers rayne ; 

And rolls of Elfin emperours. 
Till time of Gloriane. 

Who now shall give unto me words and sound 

Equall unto this haughty enterprise ? ^ 

Or who shall lend me wings, with which from ground 

My lowly verse may loftily arise, 

And lift itselfe unto the highest skyes ? 

More ample spirit than hetherto was wount 

Here needes me, whiles the famous auncestrjTS 

Of my most dreaded soveraigne I recount, 

I3y which all earthly princes she doth far surmount. 



THE FAEKIE QTJEENE. 227 

Ne under sunne that shines so wide and faire, 
Wheace all that lives does borrow life and light. 
Lives ought that to her linage may compaire ; 
Which though from earth it be derived right, 
Yet doth itselfe stretch forth to hevens hight. 
And all the world with wonder overspred ; 
A labor huge, exceeding far my might ! 
How shall fraile pen, with fear disparaged, 
Conceive such soveraine glory aad great bountyhed ! 

Argument worthy of Mseohian quill; 

Or rather worthy of great Phoebus rote. 

Whereon the mines of great Ossa hill, 

And triumphes of Phlegraean love, he wrot0. 

That all the gods admird his lofty note. 

But, if some relish of that hevenly lay 

His learned daughters would to me report 

To decke my song withall, I would assay 

Thy name, O soveraine Queene, to blazon far away. 

Thy name, O soveraine Queene, thy realm, and race. 

From this renowmed prince derived arre. 

Who mightily upheld that royall mace 

Which now thou b ear's t, to thee descended farro 

From mighty kings and conquerours in warre, 

Thy fathers and great grandfathers of old, 

Whose noble deeds above the northern starre 

Immortall Fame for ever hath enrold ; 

As in that old mans booke they were in order told. 

The land which warlike Britons now possesse. 

And therein have their mighty empire raysd. 

In antique times was salvage wildernesse. 

Unpeopled, unmannurd, unprovd, unpraysd ; 

Ne was it island then, ne was it paysd 

Amid the ocean waves, ne was it sought 

Of merchants farre for profits therein praysd ; 

But was all desolate, and of s6me thought 

By sea to have bene from the Celticke mayn-land brought. 

!N"e did it then deserve a name to have, 

Till that the venturous mariner that way 

Learning his ship from those white rocks to save. 

Which all along the southerne sea-coast lay 

Threatning unheedy wrecke and rash decay. 

For saftety that same his sea-marke made, 

And nam'd it Albion : but later day, 

Finding in it fit ports for fishers trade, 

(ran more the same frequent and further to invade. 



228 THE FAESIE QUEENE. 

But far in land a salvapre nation dwelt 

Of hideous giaunts, and halfe-beastly men, 

That never tasted grace, nor goodnes felt ; 

But wild like beastes lurking in loathsome den. 

And flying fast as roebucke through the fen. 

All naked without shame or care of cold, 

By hunting and by spoiling liveden ; 

Of stature huge, and eke of corage bold, 

That sonnes of men amazd their sternesse to behola. 

But wlience they sprong, or how they were begott, 

Uneath. is to assure ; uneath to wene 

That monstrous error which doth some assott, 

That Dioclesians fifty daughters shene 

Into this land by chaunce have driven bene ; 

Where, companing with feends and filthy sprights 

Through vaine illusion of their lust unclene,. 

They brought forth geaunts, and such dreadful wights 

As far exceeded men in their immeasurd mights. 

They held this land, and with, their filthinesse 

Polluted this same gentle soyle long time ; 

That their owne mother loathd their beasthnesse, 

And gan abhorre her broods unkindly crime. 

All were they borne of her owne native shme : 

Until that Brutus, anciently deriv'd 

Prom roiall stocke of old Assaracs line, 

Driven by fatall error here arriv'd. 

And them of their unjust possession deprived. 

But ere he had established his throne, 
And spred his empire to the utmost shore, 
. He fought great batteils with his salvage fone j 
In which he them defeated evermore. 
And many giaunts left on groning flore : 
That well can witness yet unto this day 
The westerne Hogh, besprincled with the gore 
Of mighty Goemot, whome* in stout fray 
Corineus conquered, and cruelly did slay. 

And eke that ample pitt, yet far renownd 
For the large leape which Debon did compell 
Coulin to make, being eight lugs of grownd, 
Into the which retoiirning backe he fell: 
But those three monstrous stones doe most exceil 
Which that huge sonne of hideous Albion, 
Whose father Hercules in Praunce did quell, 
Great Godmer threw, in fierce contention, 
At bold Canutus ; but of him was slaine anon. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 229 

In meed of these great conquests by them gotfe, 
Coriueus had that province utmost west # 

To him assigned for his worthy lott. 
Which of his name and memorable gest 
He called Cornwaile, yet so called best : 
And Debons shayre was, that is Devonshyre s 
But Canute had his portion from the' rest. 
The which he cald Canutium, for his hyre ; 
Now Cantium, which Kent we comenly inquyre. 

Thus Brute tMs realme unto Ms rule subdewd. 

And raigned long in great felicity, 

Lov'd of his freends, and of his foes escbewd : 

He left three sonnes, his famous progeny, 

Borne of fayre Inogene of Italy ; 

Mongst whom he parted his imperiall state. 

And Locrine left chiefe lord of Britany. 

At last ripe age bad him surrender late 

His hfe, and long good fortune, unto finall fate. 

Locrine was left the soveraine lord of all ; 

But Albanact had all the northerne part. 

Which of himselfe Albania he did call ; 

And Camber did possesse the westerne quart, 

Which Severne now from Logris doth depart : 

And each his portion peaceably enioyd, 

Ne was there outward breach, nor grudge in hart. 

That once their quiet government annoyd ; 

But each his paynes to others profit still employd. 

Untill a nation straung, with visage swart 

And corage fierce that all men did affray, 

Which through the world then swarmd in every part, 

And overflowd all countries far away, 

Like Noyes great flood, with their importune sway. 

This land invaded with like violence. 

And did themselves through all the north displa3' : 

Untill that Locrine for his realmes defence, 

Did head against them make and strong munificence. 

He them encountrfA% n confused rout, 
Foreby the river that wliylome was hight 
Tlie ancient Abus, where with courage stout 
He them defeated in victorious fight, 
And chaste so fiercely after fearefull flight. 
That forst their chiefetain, for his safeties sake, 

{Their chiefetain Humber named was aright,) 
Into the mighty streame him to betake, 
Where lie an end of batteill and of life did mako. 
11 



230 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

The king retonmed proud of victorr. 

And insol«^t wox tlirouffh unwonted ease,. 

That sliortTy lie forgot tlie ieopardy, 

Wliicii in Lis land lie lately did appease, 

And fell to vaine voluptuous disease : 

He lov'd faire Ladie Estrild, leudly lov'd, 

AYhose wanton pleasures liim too niucli did please. 

That quite his hart from Guendolene remoy'd, 

Prom Guendolene his wife, though alwaies faithful provVL 

The noble daughter of Corineus 

Would not endure to bee so vile disdaind. 

But, gathering force and corage valorous, 

Encountred him in batteill well ordaind, 

In which him vanquisht she to fly constraind : 

But she so fast pursewd, that him she tooke 

And thi'cw in bands, where he till death remaind : 

Als his faire leman flying through a brooke 

She overhent, nought moved with her piteous looke. 

But both herselfe, and eke her daughter deare 
Begotten by her kingly paramoure, 
The faire Sabrina, almost dead with feare. 
She there attached, far from all succoure : 
The one she slew in that impatient stoure; 
But the sad virsrin innocent of all, 
Adowne the rolling river she did poure, 
^Yhich of her name now Seveme men do call : 
Such was the end that to disloyaU love did fall. 

Then for her sonne, which she to Locrin bore, 
(Madan was young, unmeet the rule to sway,) 
In her owne hand the crowne she kept in store. 
Till ry-per years he raught and stronger stay : 
During which time her powre she did display 
Through all this realm e, the glory of her sex. 
And first taught men a woman to obay : 
But, when her sonne to mans estate did wex. 
She it surrendred, ne her selfe would lenger vex. 

Tho Madan raignd, unworthie of his race ; 

For with all shame that sacred throne he fild. 

Kext Memprise, as unworthy of that place, 

In which being consorted with Manild, 

For tliirst of single kingdom him he kild. 

But Ebranck salved both their infamies 

"With noble deedes, and warreyd on Brimchild 

In Henault, where yet of his victories 

Brave moniments remaine, which yet that land enriea. 



THE FAERIE QUEENB. 231 

An happy man in his first dayes lie was. 

And liap'py father of faire progeny : 

For all so many weekes, as the yeare has, 

So many children he did multiply ; 

Of which were twentie sonnes, which did apply 

Their mindes to prayse and chevalrous desyre : 

Ttiose gar mans did sub dew all Grerminy, 

Of whom it hight ; but in the end their syre 

With foule repulse from Fraunce was forced to retyra. 

Which blott his sonne succeeding in his seat. 

The second Brute, the second both in name 

And eke in semblaunce of his puissaunce great, 

Right well recur'd, and did away that blame 

With recompence of everlasting fame : 

He with his victour sword first opened 

The bowels of wide Fraunce, a forlorne dame. 

And taught her first how to l3e conquered ; 

Since which, with sondrie spoiles she hath been ransacked. 

Let Scaldis teU, and let tell Hania, 
And let the marsh of Esthambruges tell, 
What colour were their waters that same day. 
And all the moore twixt Elversham and Dell, 
With blood of Henalois which therein feU. 
How oft that day did sad Brunchildis see 
The greene sJiield dyde in dolorous yermell ? 
That not scuith guiridh it mote seeme to bee. 
Bat rather y scuith gogh, signe of sad crueltee. 

His Sonne king Leill, by fathers labour long, 

Enioyd an heritage of lasting peace, 

And built Cairleill, and built Cairleon strong. 

Nexc Huddibras his realme did not encrease. 

But taught the land from wearie wars to cease. 

Whose footsteps Bladud following, in artes 

Exceld at Athens all the learned preace. 

From whence he brought them to these salvage parts, 

And with sweet science mollifide their stub borne harts. 

Ensample of his wondrous faculty. 

Behold the boyhng baths at Cairdabon, 

Which seeth with secret fire eternally, 

And in their entrailles, full of quick brimston, 

Nourish the flames which they are warmd upon. 

That to their people wealth they forth do well. 

And health to every forreyne nation ; 

Yot he at last, contending to excell 

The reach of men, through flight into fond mischief fell. 



232 THE FAESIE QUEENB. 

JSText Mm long Leyr in Lappie peace long raynd. 

But had no issue male liim to succeed, 

But three faire daughters, which were well uptraind 

In all that seemed fitt for kingly seed ; 

Mongst whom his realme he equally decreed 

To have divided : tho, when feeble age 

Nigh to his utmost date he saw x^roceed, 

He cald his daughters, and with speeches sage 

Inquyrd, which of them most did love her parentage. 

The eldest Gonorill gan to protest, 

That she much more than her owne life him lov'd; 

And E-egan greater love to him profest 

Then all the world, whenever it were proov'd ; 

But Cordeill said she loved him as behoov'd : 

Whose simple answere, wanting colours fayre 

To paint it forth, him to displeasaunce moov'd, 

That in his crown he counted her no hayre. 

But twixt the other twain his kingdom w^hole did shayre. 

So wedded th' one to Maglan king of Scottes, 

And th' other to the king of Cambria, 

And twixt them shayrd his realme by equall lottes 5 

But, without dowre, the wise Cordelia 

Was sent to Aganip of Celtica : ^ 

Their aged syre, thus eased of his crowne, 

A private life ledd in Albania 

With Gonorill, long had in great renowne. 

That nought him griev'd to beene from rule deposed downe. 

But true it is that, when the oyle is spent. 

The light goes out, and weeke is throwne away j 

So, when he had resignd his regiment, 

His daughter gan despise his drouping day. 

And wearie wax of his continuall stay; 

Tho to his daughter E^egan he repayrd, 

Who him at first well used every way ; 

But, when of his departure she despayrd. 

Her bountie she abated, and his cheare empayrd, 

Tlie wretched man gan then aviso too late, 

That love is not where most it is profest ; 

Too truely tryde in his extremest state ! 

At last, resolv'd likewise to prove the rest. 

He to Cordelia himselfe addrest, 

Who with entyre affection him receav'd. 

As for her syre and king her seemed best ; 

And after all an army strong she leav'd. 

To war on those which him had of his realme bereav'd. 



THE TAEEIE QUEENE. 233 

So to his crowne she him restord againe ; 

Tu which he dyde, made ripe for death by eld. 

And after wild it should to her remaine : 

Who peaceably the same long time did weld. 

And all mens harts in dew obedience held; 

Till that her sisters children, woxen strong, 

Through proud ambition against her rebeld. 

And overcommen kept in prison long, 

Till weary of that wretched life herselfe she hong. 

Then gan the bloody brethren both to raine: 

But fierce Cundah gan shortly to envy 

His brother Morgan, prickt with proud disdaine 

To have a pere in part of soverainty; 

And, kindling coles of cruell enmity, 

E-aisd warre, and him in batteill overthrew: 

Whence as he to those woody hilles did fly, 

Which hight of him Glamorgan, there him slew: 

Then, did he raigne alone, when he none equal knew. 

His Sonne Hivall' his dead rowme did supply; 

In whose sad time blood did from heaven rayne. 

Next great Gurgustus, then faire Csecily, 

In constant peace their kingdomes did contayne. 

After whom Lago and Kinmarke did rayne, 

And Gorbogud, till far in years he grew: 

Then his ambitious sonnes unto them twayne 

Arraught the rule, and from their father drew; 

Stout Ferrex and sterna Porrex him in prison threw. 

But O ! the greedy thirst of royall crowne. 
That knowes no kinred, nor regardes no right, 
Stird Porrex up to put his brother downe ; 
Who, unto him assembling forreigne might, 
Made warre on him, and fell himselfe in fight : 
Whose death t' avenge, his mother mercilesse. 
Most mercilesse of women, Wyden hight. 
Her other sonne last sleeping did oppresse, 
And with most cruell hand Inm murdred pittilesse. 

Here ended Brutus sacred progeny. 

Which had seven hundred years this sceptre borne 

With hif?li renowme and great felicity : 

The noble braunch from th' antique stocke was torn© 

Through discord, and the roiall throne forlorne. 

Thenceforth this realm e was into factions rent, 

Whilest each of Brutus boasted to be borne. 

That in the end was left no moniment 

Of Brutus, nor of Britons gloric auncicnt. 



284 THE FAEEIE QXTEENE. 

Then up arose a man of matcUesse might. 

And wondrous wit to menage high affayres, 

"Who, stird with pitty of the stressed phght 

Of this sad realme, cat into sondry shayres 

By such as claymd themselves Brutes rightfidl hc^Tes, 

Gathered the i3rinces of the people loose 

To taken counsell of their common cares ; 

Who, with his wisedom won, him streight did choose 

Their king, and swore him fealty to win or loose. 

Then made he head against his enimies, 

And Ymner slew of Logris miscreate; 

Then Euddoc and proud Stater, both allyes. 

This of Albany newly nominate, 

And that of Cambry king confirmed late. 

He overthrew through his owne valiaunce ; 

Whose countries he redus'd to quiet state, 

And shortly brought to civile governaunce, 

Now one, which earst were many made through variaunce. 

Then made he sacred lawes, which some men say 

"Were unto him reveald in vision ; 

By which he freed the travellers high-way. 

The churches part, and ploughmans portion, 

[Restraining stealth and strong extortion; 

The gratious JSTuma of great Britany: 

For, till his dayes, the chiefe dominion 

By strength was wielded without polli cy: 

Therefore he first wore cro wne of gold for dignity. 

Donwallo dyde, (for what may live for ay ?) 

And left two sonnes, of pearelesse prowesse bothj 

That sacked Borne too dearely did assay. 

The recompence of their periured oth; 

And ransackt Greece vrel tryde, when they were wrotli, 

Besides subiected France and Germany, 

Which yet their praises speake, all be they loth, 

And inly tremble at the memory 

Of Brennus and Belinus, kinges of Britany. 

Next them did Gurgunt, great Belinus sonne. 

In rule succeede, and eke in fathers praise; 

He Easterland subdewd, and Denmarke wonne. 

And of them both did foy and tribute raise, 

The which was dew in his dead fathers dales : 

He also gave to fugitives of Spayne, 

Whom he at sea found wandring from their waiea, 

A seate in Ireland safely to remayne. 

Which they should hold of him as subiect to Britayne. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 233 

After him raigned Guitlieline Lis hayre. 

The ills test man and trewest in his daies. 

Who had to wife Dame Mertia the fayre, 

A woman worthy of immortall praise, 

Which for this realme found many goodly layes, 

And wholesome statutes to her husband brougSt i 

Her many deemd to have beene of the Payes, 

As was Aegerie that Nuiha tought : 

Those yet of her be Mertian lawes both nam*d and thought. 

Her Sonne Sifillus after her did rajoie ; 

And then Kimarus ; and then Danius : 

Next whom Morindus did the crowne sustaynej 

Who, had he not with wrath outrageous 

And cruell rancour dim'd his valorous 

And mightie deedes, should matched have the best 

As well in that same field victorious 

Against the forreine Morands he exprest; 

Yet lives his memorie, though carcase sleepe in rest. 

Five sonnes he left begotten of one wife. 
All which successively by turnes did rayne: 
First Gorboman, a man of virtuous life ; 
JSText Archigald, who for his proud disdayne 
Deposed was from princedome soverayne. 
And pitteous Elidure put in his sted ; 
Who shgrtly it to him restord agayne. 
Till by his death he it recovered ; 
But Peridure and Vigent him disthronized : 

In wretched prison long he did remaine. 
Till they out-raigned had their utmost date. 
And then therein reseized was againe, 
And ruled long with honorable state. 
Till he surrendred realme and life to fate. 
Then all the sonnes of these five brethren raynd 
By dew successe, and all their nephewes late ; 
Even thrise eleven descents the crowne retaynd, 
Till aged Hely by dew heritage it gaynd. 

He had two sonnes, whoae eldest, called Lud, 

Left of his hfe most famous memory. 

And endlesse moniments of his great good : 

The ruin'd wals he did rea^difye 

Of Troynovant, gainst force of enimy. 

And built that gate which of his name is hight, 

By which he lyes entombed solemnly: 

He left two sonnes, too young to rule aright, 

Androgens and Tenantius, pictures of his might. 



236 THE FAERIE QTTEENB. 

Whilst tliey were young, Cassibalane their erne 
Was by tlic people chosen in their sted. 
Who on him tooke the roiall diademe, 
And goodly Avell long time it governed; 
Till the prowde Homanes him disquieted, 
And warlike'Ceesar, tempted with the name 
Of this sweet island never conquered. 
And envying the Britons blazed fame, 
(O hideous hunger of dominion !) hether came. 

Yet twise they were repulsed backe againe, 

And twise renforst backe to their ships to fly; 

The whiles with blood they all the shore did staine, 

And the gray ocean into purple dy: 

J^e had they footing found at last perdie, 

Had not Androgens, false to native soyle. 

And envious of uncles soveraintie, 

Betrayd his country unto forreine spoyle. 

Nought els but treason from the first this land did foyle! 

So by him Caesar got the victory, 

Through great bloodshed and many a sad assay. 

In which himselfe was charged heavily 

Of hardy Nennius, whom he yet did slay, 

But lost his sword, yet to be scene this day. 

Thenceforth this land was tributarie made 

T' ambitious E-ome, and did their rule obay. 

Till Arthur all that reckoning defrayd : 

Yet oft the Briton kings against them strongly swayd. 

ISText him Tenantius raignd ; then Kimbeline, 
What time th' Eternall Lord in fleshly slime 
Enwombed was, from wretched Adams line 
To purge away the guilt of sinful crime. 
O ioy ous memorie of happy time. 
That heavenly grace so plenteously displayd ! 
O too high ditty for my simple rime ! — 
Soone after this the Eomanes him warrayd ; 
Eor that their tribute he refusd to let be payd. 

Good Claudius, that next was emperour. 

An array brought, and with him batteile fought. 

In which the king was by a treaohetour 

Pisguised slaine, ere any thereof thought : 

Yet ceased not the bloody fight for ought : 

Eor Arvirage his brothers place supply de 

Both in his armes and crowne, and by that draught 

I)id drive the Eomanes to the weaker syde. 

That they to peace agreed. So all was pacifyde. 



THE FAEETE QtJEENE. 237 

Was never king more liigUy magnifide, 

Nor dredd of Eomanes, tlien was Arvirages 

For whicli the emperour to him allide 

His dau^^iter Genuiss' in marriage : 

Yet shortly he renouast the vasaallage 

Of Eome againe, who hether hastly sent 

Vespasian, that with great spoile and rage 

Forwasted all, till Grenuissa gent 

Persuaded hi5n to ceasse, and her lord to relent. 

He dide ; and him succeded Marius, 

Who ioyd his dayes in great tranquillity. 

Then Coy 11 ; and after him good LuciuSs 

That first received Christianity, 

The sacred pledge of Christes Evangely, 

Yet true it is, that long before that day 

Hither came loseph of Arimathy, 

Who brought with him the Holy Grayle, (they s:iy,) 

And preacht the truth ; but since it greatly did decay. 

This good king shortly without issew dide. 

Whereof great trouble in the kingdome grew. 

That did herselfe in sondry parts divide, 

And with her powre her owne selfe overthrew, 

Whilest liomanes daily did the weake subdew: 

Which seeing, stout Bunduca up arose, 

And taking amies the Britons to her drew; 

With whom she marched straight against her foes, 

And them unwares besides the Severne did enclose. 

There she with them a cruell batteill tryde, 

Not with so good successe as shee deserv'd ; 

By reason that the captaines on her sydo. 

Corrupted hy Paulinus, from her swerv'd : 

Yet such, as were through former flight preservVl, 

Gathering againe, her host she did renew, 

And with fresh corage on the victor servd : 

But being all defeated, save a few, 

llather than fly, or be captiv'd, herselfe she slew, 

O famous moniment of womens prayse ! 

Matchable either to Semiramis, 

Whom antique history so higli doth rayse. 

Or to Hypsiphir, or to Thomiris : 

Her host two hundred thousand numbred is. 

Who, whiles good fortune favoured her might. 

Triumphed oft against her enemis ; 

And yet, though overcome in haplesse fight, 

Shee triumphed on death, in enemies despight. 



238 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

Her reliques Fulgent having gathered, 

Fought with Severus, and him overthrew ; 

Yet in tlie chace was slaine of them that fled : 

So made them victors whome he did subdew. 

Then gan Carausius tirannize anew, 

And g;ainst the Eomanes bent their proper powro ; 

But him Allectus treacherously slew. 

And tooke on him the robe of emperoure ; 

Nath'lesse the same enioyed but short happy howre. 

For Asclepiodate him overcame. 
And left inglorious on the vanquisht playne. 
Without or robe or rag to hide his shame : 
Then afterwards he in his stead did raigne ; 
But shortly was by Coj-ll in batteill slaine : 
Who after long debate, since Lucies tyme. 
Was of the Britons first crownd soveraine : 
Then gan this realme renew her passed prime : 
He of his name Coylchester built of stone and hme. 

Which when the Homanes heard, they hether ser»t 

Constantius, a man of miclde might, 

With whome king Coy 11 made an agreement, 

And to him gave for wife his daughter bright, 

Faire Helena, the fairest living wight. 

Who in all godly thewes and goodly praise 

Did far excell, but was most famous hight 

For skil in musicke of all in her daies, 

As well in curious instruments as cunning laiea : 

Of whome he did great Constantino "begett. 

Who afterward was emperour of Eome ; 

To which whiles absent he his mind did sett, 

Octavius here lept into his roome, 

And it usurped by unrighteous doome : 

But he his title iustifide by might, 

Slaying Traherne, and having overcome 

The Homane legion in dreadfuU fight : 

So settled he his kingdome, and confirmd his right* 

But, wanting yssew male, his daughter deare 

He gave in wedlocke to Maximian, 

And him with her made of his kingdome heyre. 

Who soone by meanes thereof the empire wan. 

Till murdred by the freends of Gratian. 

Then gan the Hunnes and Picts invade this land. 

During the raigne of Maximinian ; 

Who dying left none heire them to withstand : 

But that they overran all parts with easy hand. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE, 233 

The weary Britons, whose war-liable youth 

Was by Maximian lately ledd away, 

With wretched miseryes and woeful! ruth 

Were to those pagans made an open pray. 

And daily spectacle of sad decay : 

Whome Eomane warres, which now fowr hundred yeares 

And more had wasted could no whit dismay ; 

Til, by consent of Commons and of Peares, ^ 

They crownd the second Constantine with ioyous teares. 

Who having oft in batteill vanquished 

Those spoylefull Picts, and swarming Easterlings, 

Long time in peace his realme established. 

Yet oft annoy d with sondry bordragings 

Of neighbour Scots, and forrein scatterlings 

With which the world did in those dayes abound. 

Which to outbarre, with painefuU pyonings 

From sea to sea he heapt a mighty mound. 

Which from Alcluid to Panwelt did that border bownd. 

Three sonnes he dying left, all under age ; 
By meanes whereof their uncle Vortigere 
Usurpt the crowne during tlieir pupillage ; 
Which th* infants tutors gathering to feare. 
Them closely into Armorick did beare : 
For dread of whom, and for those Picts annoyes, 
He sent to Germany straunge aid to reare ; 
From whence eftsoones arrived here three hoyes 
Of Saxons, whom he for his safety imployes. 

Two brethren were their capitayns, which hight 
Hengist and Horsus, well approv'd in warre. 
And both of them men of renowmed might ; 
Who making vantage of their civile iarre. 
And of those forreyDers which came from farre. 
Grew great, and got large portions of land, 
That in the realme ere long they stronger arre 
Then they which sought at first their helping hand, 
And Yortiger enforst the kingdome to aband. 

But, by the helpe of Vortimere his sonne. 

He is againe unto his rule restord ; 

Alid Hengist, seeming sad for that was donne, 

[Received is to ^race and new accord, 

Through his faire daughters face and flattring word: 

Soone after which, three hundred lords he slew 

Of British blood, all sitting at his bord ; ^ 

Whose dolefull moniments who list to rew, 

Th* eternall mai'ks of treason may at Stonheng vew^ 



240 THE FAEBIB QUEENE. 

By tMs tlie sonnes of Constantine, wliicli fled, 

Ambrose and Utlier, did ripe yeares attayne, 

And, here arriving, strongly cliallenged 

The crowne which Vortiger did long detayne : 

Who, flying from his guilt, by them was slayne ; 

And Hengist eke soone brought to shamefull death. 

Thenceforth Aurelius peaceably did rayne, 

Till that through poyson stopped was his breath ; 

So now entombed lies at Stoneheng by the heath. 

After him Uther, which Pendragon hight. 
Succeeding — There abruptly it did end, 
Without full point, or other cesure right ; 
As if the rest some wicked hand did rend. 
Or th' author selfe could not at least attend 
To finish it : tiiat so untimely breach 
The prince himselfe halfe seemed to offend ; 
Yet secret pleasure did offence empeach. 
And wonder of antiquity long stopt his speach. 

At last, quite ravisht with delight to heare 

The royall ofspring of his native land, 

Cryde out; "Deare countrey ! O how dearely deare 

Ought thy remembraunce and perpetuall band 

Be to thy foster child, that from thy hand 

Did commun breath and nouriture receave ! 

How brutish is it not to understand 

How much to her we owe, that all us gave ; 

That gave unto us all whatever good we have !" 

But Guy on all this while his booke did read, 
Ne yet has ended : for it was a great 
And ample volume, that doth far excead 
My leasure so long leaves here to repeat: 
It told how first Prometheus did create 
A man, of many parts from beasts deryr'd. 
And then stole fire from heven to animate 
His worke, for which he was by love depryv*d 
Of life himselfe, and hart-strings of an aegle ryv*d. 

That man so made he called Elfe, to weet 

Quick, the first author of all Elfin kynd ; 

Who, wandring through the world with wearie feet^ 

Did in the gardins of Adonis fynd 

A goodly creature, whom he deemd in mynd 

To be no earthly wight, but either spright. 

Or angell, tli' authour of all woman kynd; 

Therefore a Pky he her according hight, 

Of whom all Faryes spring, and fetch their lignage right. 



THE FAEEIB QUEENE. 241 

Of these a mighty people shortly grew. 

And puissant kinges, which all the world warrayd. 

And to themselves all nations did subdew : 

The first and eldest, which that scepter swayd. 

Was Elfin ; him all India obayd, 

And all that now America men call : 

Next him was noble Elfinan, who laid 

Cleopolis foundation first of all : 

But Elfiline enclosd it with a golden wall. 

His Sonne was Elfinell, who overcame 

ThQ wicked Gobbelines in bloody field : 

But Elfant was of most renowmed fame. 

Who all of christall did Panthea build : 

Then Elfar, who two brethren gyauntes kild, 

The one of which had two heades, th' other three: 

Then Elfinor, who was in magick skild ; 

He built by art upon the glassy see 

A bridge of bras, whose sound hevens j;hunder seem'd to be. 

He left three sonnes, the which in order raynd. 

And all their ofspring, in their dew descents ; 

Even seven hundred princes, which maintaynd 

With mightie deedes their sondry governments ; 

That were too long their infinite contents 

Here to record, ne much materiall : 

Yet should they be most famous moniments. 

And brave ensample, both of martiall 

And civil rule, to kinges and states imperiall. 

After all these Elficleos did rayne. 
The wise Elficleos in great maiestie. 
Who niightily that scepter did sustayne, 
And with rich spoyles and famous victorio 
Did high advaunce the crowne of Eaery : 
He left two sonnes, of which faire Elferon, 
The eldest brother did untimely dy ; 
Whose emptie place the mightie Oberon 
Doubly supplide, in spousall and dominion. 

Great was his power alid glorie over all 

Which, him before, that sacred seate did fill 

That yet remaines his wide memoriall : 

He dying left the fairest Tanaquill, 

Him to succeede therein, by his last will : 

Fairer and nobler liveth none this howre, 

"Ne like in grace, ne like in learned skill ; 

Therefore they Glorian call that glorious flowre : 

liong mayst thou, Glorian, live in glory and great powro! 



2'i3 THE FAERIE QTTEENB. 

Beguyld thus with delight of novelties. 

And naturall desire of country es state, 

So long they redd in those antiquities, 

That how the time was fled they quite forgate ; 

Till gentle Alma, seeing it so late, 

Perforce their studies broke, and them besought 

To thinke how supper did them long awaite : 

So halfe unwilling from their bookes them brought. 

And fayrely feasted, as so noble knightes she ought. 



CANTO XL 

The eniraies of Temperaunce 
Besiege her dwelling place ; 

Prince Arthure them repelles, and fowle 
Maleger doth deface. 

What warre so cruel, or what siege so soro. 

As that which strong Affections doe apply 

Against the forte of Reason evermore, 

To bring the sowle into captivity ! 

Their force is fiercer through infirmity 

Of the fraile flesh, relenting to their rage; 

And exercise most bitter tyranny 

Upon the partes, brought into their bondage: 

No wretchednesse is like to sinfull vellenage. 

33ut in a body which doth freely yeeld 

His partes to Reasons rule obedient, 

And letteth her that ought the scepter weeld. 

All happy peace and goodly government 

Is settled there in sure establishment. 

There Alma, like a Virgin Queene most bright, 

Doth florish in all beautie excellent ; 

And to her guestes doth bounteous banket dight, 

Attebipred goodly well for health and for delighi, 

Early, before the morne with cremosih ray 
The windowes of bright heaven opened had, 
Through which into the world the dawning day 
Might looke, that maketh every creature glad. 
Uprose Sir Guyon in bright armour clad, 
And to his purposd iourney him prepar'd: 
With him the palmer eke in habit sad 
Himselfe addrest to that adventure hard : 
So to the rivers syde they both together far*d: 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 243 

WTiere tliem awaited ready at tlie ford 

The Ferriman, as Alma had behight, 

With his well-rigged bote : they goe abord, 

And he eftsoones gan launch his barke forthright. 

Ere long they rowed were quite out of sight, 

And fast the land behynd them fled away. 

But let them pas, whiles winde and wether right 

Doe serve their turnes : here I a while must stay. 

To see a cruell fight doen by the Prince this day. 

For, all so soone as Guyon thence was gon 

Upon his voyage with his trustie guyde, 

That wicked band of villeins fresh begon 

That castle to assaile on every side. 

And lay strong siege about it far and wyde. 

So huge and infinite their numbers were. 

That all the land they under them did hyde ; 

So fowle and ugly, that exceeding feare 

Their visages imprest, when they approched neare. 

Them in twelve troupes their captein did dispart. 
And round about in fittest steades did place. 
Where each might best offend his propei part, 
And his contrary obiect most deface. 
As every one seem'd meetest in that cace. 
Seven of the name against the castle-gate 
In strong entrenchments he did closely place, 
Which with incessaunt force and endlesse hate 
They battred day and night, and entraunce did awate. 

The other five, five sondry wayes he sett 

Against the five great bulwarkes of that pyle. 

And unto each a bulwarke did arrett, 

T' assayle with open force or hidden guyle. 

In hope thereof to win victorious spoile. 

They all that charge did fervently apply 

With greedie malice and importune toyle, 

And planted there their huge artillery. 

With which they dayly made most dreadful! battery. 

The first troupe was a monstrous rablement 

Of fowle misshapen wightes, of which some were 

Headed like owles, with beckes uncomely bent ; 

Others like dogs ; others like gryphons dreare ; 

And some had wings, and some had clawes to tearei 

And every one of them had lynces eyes ; 

And every one did bow and arrowes beare : 

All those were lawless Lustes, and corrupt Envyes, 

And covetous Aspects, all cruel enimyes. 



MA THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 

Those same against tlie bulwarke of tlie Sight 

Did lay strong siege and battailous assault, 

IsTe once did yield it respitt day nor niio^lit ; 

But soone as Titan gan his head exault, 

And soone againe as he his light withhaulfc, 

Their wicked engins they against; it bent; 

That is, each thing by whi jh the eyes may fault : 

But two then all more huge and violent, 

Beautie and Money, they that bulwarke sorely rent* 

The second bulwarke was the Hearing Sence, 
Gainst which the second troupe dessignment makes, 
Deformed creatures, in straunge difference : 
Some having heads like harts, some like to snakes, 
Some like wild bores late rouzd out of the brakes : 
Slaunderous Keproches, and fowle Infamies, 
Leasinges, Backbytinges, and vain-^iorious Crakes, 
Bad Counsels, Prayses, and false Flatteries : 
All those against that fort did bend their batteries. 

Likewise that same third fort, that is the Smell, 

Of that third troupe was cruelly assayd ; 

Whose hideous shapes w^ere like to feendes of hell. 

Some like to lioundes, some like to apes, dismay dj 

Some like to puttockes, all in plumes arayd; 

All shap't according their conditions : 

For, by those ugly formes, weren pourtrayd 

Foolish Delights and fond Abusions, 

Which doe that sence besiege with fond illusions. 

And that fourth band which cruell battry bent 

Against the fourth bulwarke, that is the Taste, 

Was as the rest, a grysie rablement ; 

Some mouth'd like greedy oystriges ; some faste 

Like loathly toades ; some fashioned in the waste 

Like swine: for so deformd is" Luxury, 

Surfeat, Misdiet, and unthriftie Waste, 

Yaine Feastes, and ydle Superfluity : 

All those this sences fort assay le incessantly. 

But the fift troupe, most horrible of hew 

And ferce of force, is dreadfull to report ; 

For some like snailes, some did like spyders shew. 

And some like ugly urchins thick and short : 

Cruelly they assay led that fift fort. 

Armed with dartes of sensuall Delight, 

With stinges of carnall Lust, and strong effort 

Of feeling Pleasures, with which day and night 

Against that same fift Bulwarke they continued ughu 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 245 

Thus tliese twelve troupes with dreadfull puissaunce 

Against that ca-stle restlesse siege did la3'', 

And evermore their hideous ordinaunce 

Upon the bulwarkes cruelly did pla^r, 

That now it gan to threaten neare decay : 

And evermore their wicked capitayn 

Provoked them the breaches to assay, 

Sometimes with threats, sometimes with hope of gay, 

Whiclx by the ransack of that peece they should attayn. 

On th* other syde, th' assieged castles ward 

Their steadfast stonds did mightily maintaine, 

And many bold repulse, and many hard 

Atchievement wrought, with perill and with payn<f. 

That goodly frame from ruine to sustaine : 

And those two brethren gyauntes did defend 

The walles so stoutly with their sturdie mayne. 

That never erxtraunce any durst pretend, 

But they to direfuU. death their groning ghosts did send. 

The noble virgin, ladie of the place, 

Was much dismayed with that dreadful sight, 

(For never was she in so evill cace,) 

Till that the prince, seeing her wofull plight, 

Gan her recomfort from so sad affright, 

OfFring his service and his dearest life 

[For her defence against that carle to light. 

Which was their chiefe and th' author of that strife : 

She him remercied as the patrone of her hfe. 

Eftsoones himselfe in glitterand amies he dight, 

And his well proved weapons to him hent ; 

So taking courteous conge, he behight 

Those gates to be unbar'd, and forth he went. 

Farye mote he thee, the prowest and most gent. 

That ever brandished bright Steele on hye ! 

Whom soone as that unruly rablement 

With his gay squyre issewing did espye. 

They reard a most outrageous dreadfull yelling cry : 

And therewithall attonce at him let fly 

Their fluttring arrowes, thicke as flakes of snow. 

And round about him flocke impetuously. 

Like a great water-flood, that tombling low 

From the high mountaines, threates to overflow 

With suddein fury aU the fertile playne. 

And the sad husbandmans long hope doth throw 

Adowne the streame, and all his vowes make vayne : 

Nor bounds nor banks his headlong ruine may susta3aie- 



246 THE PAEBIE QtTEENS. 

Upon Ills sMeld tlieir heaped Iiayle lie bore. 

And witli liis sword disperst the raskall flockes. 

Which fled asonder, and him fell before; 

As withered leaves drop from their dryed stockes, 

"When the wroth western wind does reave theu' locksu 

And underneath him his courageoits steed. 

The fierce Spumador, trode them down like docks ; 

The fierce Spumador borne of heavenlie seed ; 

Such as Laomedan of Phoebus race did breed. ' 

Which sudd^ine horrour and confused cry 

Whenas their capteine heard, in haste he yod© 

The cause to weet, and fault to remedy : 

Upon a tygre swift and fierce he rode. 

That as the winde ran underneath his lode, 

Whiles his long legs nigh raught unto the ground : 

Full large he was of limbe, and shoulders brode ; 

But of such subtile substance and unsound, [bound : 

That like a ghost he seem'd whose grave-clothes were un- 

And in his hand a bended bow was seene. 

And many arrowes under his riffht side, 

All deadly daungerous, all cruell keene, 

Headed with flint, and fethers bk>ody dide ; 

Such as the Indians in their quivers hide : 

Those could he well direct and streight as line, 

And bid them strike the marke which he had eyde | 

Ne was there salve, ne was there medicine. 

That mote recure their woundesj so inly they did tino. 

As pale and wan as ashes was his looke ; 
His body leane and meagre as a rake ; 
And skin all withered like a dryed rooke | 
- Thereto as cold and drery as a snake ; 
That seemd to tremble evermore and quake: 
All in a canvas thin he was bedight. 
And girded with a belt of twisted brake : 
Upon his head he wore an helmet light. 
Made of a dead mans skull, that seemd a ghastly sight. 

Maleger was his name : and after him " 

There follow'd fast at hand two wicked hags, 

With hoary lockes all loose, and visage grim ; 

Their feet unshod, their bodies wrapt in rags. 

And both as swift on foot as chased stags ; 

And yet the one her other legge had lame, 

Which with a stafie all full of litle snags 

She did support, and Impotence her name : 

But th* other was Impatience, armd with raging flame. 



THE FAERIE QTrEENE. 247 

8'X)ne as the carle from far the prince espyde 
Glistring in armes and warlike ornament, 
His beast he felly prickt on either syde. 
And his mischievous bow full readie bent, 
With which at him a cruell shaft he sent : 
But he was warie, and it warded well 
Upon his shield, that it no further went, 
But to the ground the idle quarrell fell : 
Then he another and another did expell. 

Which to prevent, the prince his mortall speare 

Soone to him raught, and fierce at him did ride. 

To be avenged of that shot whyleare ; 

But he was not so hardy to abide 

That bitter stownd, but, turning qui eke aside 

His light-foot beast, fled fast away for feare : 

Whom to poursue, the Infant after hide 

So fast as his good courser could him beare : 

But labour lost it was to weene approch him neare. 

Far as the winged wind his tigre fled, 
That vew of eye could scarse him overtake, 
"Ne scarse his feet on ground were scene to tred ; 
Through hils and dales he speedy way did make, 
Ne hedge ne ditch his readie passage brake, 
And in his flight the villeine turn'd his face, 
(As wonts the Tartar by the Caspian lake, 
Whenas the Russian him in fight does chace,) 
Unto his tygres taile, and shot at him apace. 

Apace he shot, and yet he fled apace, 

Still as the greedy knight nigh to him drew; 

And oftentimes he would relent his pace. 

That him his foe more fiercely should poursew: 

But, when his uncouth manner he did vew. 

He gan avize to follow him no more. 

But keepe his standing, and his shaftes eschew. 

Until he quite had spent his perlous store, 

And then assayle him fresh, ere he could shift for more. 

But that lame hag, still as abroad he strew 
His wicked arrowes, gathered them againe. 
And to him brought, fresh batteill to renew; 
Which he espying cast her to restraine 
From yielding succour to that cursed swaine. 
And her attaching thought her hands to tye ; 
But, soone as him dismounted on the plaine 
That other hag did far away espye 
Binding her sister, she to him ran hastily ; 



248 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

And catcliing liold of liim, as do-^rae he lent, 
Him backewarde overthrew, and downe him stayd 
With their rude handes and gryesl}' graplement ; 
Till that the villein, comming to their ayd. 
Upon him fell, and lode upon him layd : 
Full litle wanted, but he had him slaine, 
And of the battell balefull end had made, 
Had not his gentle squire beheld his paine, 
And commen to his reskew ere his bitter bane. 

So gTeatest and most glorious thing on ground 

May often need the helpe of weaker hand; 

So feeble is mans state, and hfe unsound. 

That m assuraunce it may never stand. 

Till it dissolved be from earthly band ! 

Proofe be thou, prince, the pro west man alyye. 

And noblest borne of all in Briton land ; 

Yet thee fierce Fortune did so nearely drive, 

That had not Grace thee blest, thou shouldest not suiTiveu 

The squyi*e arriving, fiercely in his armes 
Snatcht first the one, and then the other jade. 
His chiefest letts and authors of his harmes. 
And them perforce withheld with threatned blade. 
Least that his lord they should behinde invade ; 
The whiles the prince, prickt with reprochful shame 
As one awakte out of long slombring shade, . 
Hevivyng thought of glory and of fame. 
United all his powres to pui-ge himselfe from blame. 

Like as a fire, the which in hollow cave 

Hath long bene underkept and down supprest. 

With murmurous disdayne doth inly rave, 

And grudge, in so streight prison to be prest. 

At last breakes foi:th with furious unrest, 

And strives to mount unto his native seat ; 

All that did earst it hinder and molest, 

Yt now devoures with flames and scorching heat. 

And carries into smoake with rage and horror great. 

So mightely the Briton prince him rouzd 
Out of his holde, and broke liis eaytive bands ; 
And as a beare, whom angry curres have touzd. 
Having off-shakt them and escapt their hands, 
Becomes more fell, and all that him withstands 
Treads down and overthrowes. IS'ow had the carle 
Alighted from his tigre, and his hands 
Discharged of his bow and deadly quar'le. 
To seize upon his foe flatt lying on the marie. 




THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 24d 

Wliicli now him turnd to disavantage deare ; 

For neither can he fly, nor other harme, 

Bat trust unto his strength and manhood meare, 

Sith now he is far from his monstrous swarme, 

And of his weapons did himselfe disarme. 

The knight yet wrothfull for his late disgrace, 

Fiercely advaunst his valorous right arme, 

And him so sore smott with his yron mace. 

That groveling to the ground he fell, and fild his place. 

Wei weened hee that field was then his owne, 

And all his labor brought to happy end ; 

When suddein up the villeine overthrowne 

Out of his swowne arose, fresh to contend. 

And gan himselfe to second battaill bend, 

As hurt he had not beene. Thereby there lay 

An huge great stone, which stood upon one end, 

And had not bene removed many a day : 

Some land>marke seemd to be, or signe of sundry way: 

The same he snatcht, and with exceeding sway 
Threw at his foe, who was right well aware 
To shonne the engine of his meant decay; 
It booted not to thinke that throw to beare. 
But grownd he gave, and lightly lept areare j 
Eft fierce retourning, as a foulcon fay re, 
That once hath failed of her souse full neare. 
Remounts againe into the open ayre, 
And unto better fortune doth herselfe prepayre : 

So brave retourning, with his brandisht blade, 
He to the carle himselfe agayn addrest. 
And strooke at him so sternely, that he made 
An open passage through his riven brest. 
That halfe the Steele behind his backe did rest; 
Wiiich drawing backe, he looked evermore 
When the hart blood should gush out of his cl^egt. 
Or his dead corse should fall upon the flore ; 
But his dead corse upon the flore fell nathemore : 

Ke drop of blood appeared shed to bee, 

All were the wownd so wide and wonderous 

That through his carcas one might playnly see. 

Halfe in amaze with horror hideous. 

And halfe in rage to be deluded thus, 

Again through both the sides he strooke him quight> 

That made his spright to grone full piteous ; 

Yet nathemore forth fled his groning spright, 

But freshly, as at first; prepard himselfe to fight. 



250 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

Thereat lie smitten was witli ^eat affrip^lit, 

And trembling terror did his hart appall ; 

Ne wist he what to thinke of that same sight, 

'Ne what to say, ne what to doe at all : 

He doubted least it were some magicall 

Illusion that did beguile his sense, 

Or wandriDg ghost that wanted funerall. 

Or aery spirite under false pretence, 

Or hellish feend raysd up through divelish science^ 

His wonder far exceeded reasons reach, 
That he began to doubt his dazeled sight. 
And oft of error did himselfe appeach : 
Flesh without blood, a person without spright. 
Wounds without hurt, a body without might, 
That could doe harme, yet could not harmed bee. 
That could not die, yet seemd a mortall wight. 
That was most strong in most infirmitee ; 
Like did he never heare, like did he never see. 

Awhile he stood in this astonishment, 

Yet would he not for all his great dismay 

Give over to eiFect his first intent, 

And th' utmost meanes of victory assay. 

Or th' utmost yssew of his owne decay. 

His owne good sword Mordure, that never fayld 

At need till now, he lightly threw away. 

And his bright shield that nought him now avayld; 

And with his naked hands him forcibly assayld. 

Twixt his two mighty armes him up he snatcht. 

And crusht his carcas so against his brest. 

That the disdainfull sowle he thence dispatcht. 

And th' ydle breath all utterly exprest : 

Tho, when he felt him dead, adowne he kest 

The lumpish corse imto the sencelesse grownd ; 

Adowne he kest it with so puissant wrest. 

That backe againe it did alofte rebownd, 

And gave against his mother Earth a gronefull sownd« 

As when loves hamesse-bearing bird from hye 

Stoupes at a flying heron with proud disdayne. 

The stone-dead quarrey falls so forciblye. 

That yt rebownds against the lowly playne, 

A second fall redoubhng backe agayne. 

Then thought the prince all peril sure was past. 

And that he victor onely did remayne ; 

JSTo sooner thought, then that the carle as fast 

Gan heap huge strokes on him, as ere he down was cast* 



THB FAEBIE QUEENE. 251 

Nigh his wits end tlien woxe tk* amazed knight, 

And thought his labor lost, and travell vayne. 

Against this lifelesse shadow so to fight : 

Yet life he saw, and felt his mighty mayne, 

That, whiles hemarveild still, did still him payne; 

Forthy he gan some other wayes advize, 

How to take life from that dead-livipg swayne. 

Whom still he marked freshly to arize 

Prom th* earth, and from her womb new spirits to reprize. 

He then remembred well, that had bene sayd, 

How th' Earth his mother was, and first him borej 

She eke, so often as his life decayd, 

Did life with usury to him restore, 

And reysd him up much stronger than before. 

So soone as he unto her wombe did fall : 

Therefore to grownd he would him cast no more, 

Ne him committ to grave terrestriall. 

But beare him farre from hope of succour usuall. 

Tho up he caught him twixt his puissant hands. 

And having scruzd out of his carrion corse 

The lothfuU life, now loosd from sinfuU bands. 

Upon his shoulders carried him perforse 

Above three furlongs, taking his full course. 

Until he came unto a standing lake : 

Him thereinto he threw without remorse, 

Ne stird, till hope of life did him forsake : 

So end of that carles dayes and his ownapaynes did make. 

Which when those wicked hags from far did spye. 

Like two mad dogs they ran about the lands ; 

And th' one of them with dreadfull yelling crye. 

Throwing awaye her broken chaines and bands. 

And having quencht her burning fier-brands, 

Hedlong herselfe did cast into that lake ; 

But Impotence with her owne wilfull hands 

One of Malegers cursed dartes did take, 

So ryv'd her trembling hart, and wicked end did make. 

Thus now alone he conqueror remaines : 

Tho, cumming to his squyre that kept his steed, 

Thought to have mounted; but his feeble vaines 

Him faild thereto and served not his need, 

Through losse of blood which from his wounds did bleed, 

That he began to faint, and life decay: 

But his good squyre, him helping up with speed, 

"With stedfast hand upon his horse did stay, 

And led him to the castle by the beaten way. 



252 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Where many groom es and squiers ready were 

To take him from his steed full tenderly ; 

And eke the fayrest Alma mett him there 

With balme, and wine, and costly spicery. 

To comfort him in his infirmity: 

Eftsoones she causd him up to be convayd. 

And of his armes despoyled easily ; 

In sumptuous bed shee made him to be layd ; 

And, al the while his wounds were dressing, by him stayd. 



CANTO xn. 

Guyon by palmers governanncew 

Passing through perilles great. 
Doth overthrow the Bovvre oi" Blis, 

And Acrasy defeat. 

ITow ginnes that goodly frame of Temperaunce 

Fayrely to rise, and her adorned hed 

To pricke of highest prayse forth to advaunce, 

Formerly fcrounded and fast setteled 

On firme foundation of true bountyhed : 

And this brave knight, that for this vertue fightes, 

Now comes to point of that same perilous sted, 

Where Pleasure dwelles in sensuall delights, 

Mongst thousand dangers and ten thousand magick mights. 

Two dayes now in that sea he sayled has, 

Ne ever land beheld, ne living wight, 

Ne ought save perill, still as he did pas : 

Tho, when appeared the third morrow bright 

Upon the waves to spred her trembling light, 

An hideous roaring far away they heard, 

That all their sences filled mth affright; 

And streight they saw the raging surges reard 

Up to the skyes, that them of drowning made affeard. 

Said then the boteman, " Palmer, stere aright 
And keepe an even course ; for yonder way 
We needes must pas (G-od doe us well acquight !) 
That is the Gulfe of G-reedinesse, they say. 
That deepe engorgeth all this worldes pray; 
Which having swallowd up excessively, 
He soone in vomit up againe doth lay. 
And belcheth forth his superfluity, 
That all the seas for feare doe seeme away to jBy. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 253 

" On til* otlier sjde an hideous rock is piglit 

Of mighty magnes stone, whose craggie cliffc 

Depending from on high, dreadfull to sight, 

Owr the waves his rugged amies doth Hft, 

And threatneth downe to throw his ragged riflb 

On whoso Cometh nigh: yet nigh it drawes 

All passengers, that none from it can shift : 

For, whiles they fly that gulfe's devouring iawcs, 

They on the rock are rent, and sunck in helples wawes/*. 

Forward tliey passe, and strongly he them rowes, 

Untill they nigh unto that gulf'e arryve. 

Where streame more violent and greedy growes : 

Then he with all his puisaunce doth stryve 

To strike his oares, and mightily doth dr^^ve 

The hollow vessell through the threatfull wave ; 

TVhich, gaping wide to swallow them alyve 

In th' huge abysse of his engulfing grave, 

Doth rore at them in vaine, and with great terrour rare* 

They, passing by, that grisely mouth did see 
Sucking the seas into his entralles derpe, 
That seemd more horrible than hell to bee. 
Or that darke dreadfull hole of Tartare steepe, 
Tlirough which the damned ghosts doen often creep 
Backe to the world, bad livers to torment: 
But nought that falles into this direfull deepe, 
Ne that approcheth nigh the wyde descent. 
May backe retourne, but is condemned to be drent. 

On th' other side they saw that perilous rocke, 

Threatning itselfe on them to ruinate, 

On whose sharp cliftes the ribs of vessels broke ; 

And shivered ships, which had beene wrecked late. 

Yet stuck with carcases exanimate 

Of such, as having all their substance spent 

In wanton ioyes and lustes intemperate, 

Did afterwardes make shipwrack violent 

Both of their life and fame for ever fowly blent. 

Forthy this hight the Eock of vile Eeproch, 
A daungerous and detestable place, 
To which nor fish nor fowle did once approch. 
But yelling meawes, with seagulles, hoars, and bace, 
And cormoyraunts, with birds of ravenous race, 
"Which still sat wayting on that wastfull chft 
For spoile of wretches, whose unhappy cace. 
After lost credit and consumed thrift. 
At last them driven Lath to this despairefuU drift. 
12 



254 THE TAEEIE QUEENE. 

TKe palmer, seeing tliem in safetie past, 

Thus saide : " Behold th' ensamples in our sightes 

Of lustfull luxurie and tKi'iftlesse wast ! 

What now is left of miserable wightes, 

Which spent their looser daies in lend delightes, 

But shame and sad reproch, here to be red 

By these rent rehques speaking their ill-ijlightes ! 

Let all that live hereby be counselled 

To shunne Eock of Eeproch, and it as death to dread !* 

So forth they rowed; and that ferryman 

With his stiife oares did brush the sea so strong. 

That the hoare waters from his frigot ran, 

And the light bubles daunced all along, 

Whiles the salt brine out of the biUowes sprong. 

At last, far off, they many islandes spy 

On every side floting the floodes emong : 

Then said the knight ; " Lo ! I the land descry ; 

Therefore, old syre, thy course doe thereunto apply. '' 

" That may not bee," said then the ferryman, 
" Least wee unweeting hap to be fordonne : 
Por those same islands, seeming now and than, 
Are not firme land, nor any certein wonne, 
But stragling plots, which to and fro doe ronne 
In the wide waters : therefore are they hight 
The Wandring Islands : therefore doe them shonne ; 
For they have oft drawne many a wandring wight 
Into most deadly daunger and distressed i^hght. 

" Yet well they seeme to him, that farre doth vew. 

Both faire and fruitfull, and the grownd dispred 

With grassy greene of delectable hew ; 

And the tall trees with leaves appareled 

Are deckt with blossoms dyde in white and red. 

That mote the passengers thereto allure ; 

But whosoever once hath fastened 

His foot thereon, may never it recure, 

But wandreth evermore uncertein and unsure, 

"As th' isle of Delos whylome, men report. 
Amid th' Aegsean sea long time did stray, 
ISTe made for shipping any certeine port, 
Tin that Latona travelling that way. 
Flying from lunoes wrath and hard assay, 
Of her fayre twins was there delivered, 
Which afterwards did rule the night and day; 
Thenceforth it firmely was established. 
And for ApoUoes temple highly berried." 



THE FA^EEIB QUEENE. 255 

They to him hearken, as beseemeth meete ; 
And passe on forward: so their way does ly, 
That one of those same islands, which doe fleet 
In the wide sea, they needes must passen by, 
Which seemd so sweet and pleasaiint to the eye. 
That it would tempt a man to touciien there : 
Upon the banck they sitting did espy 
A daintie damsell dressing- of her heare, 
By whom a little skippet iloting did appeare. 

She them espying, loud to them gan call, 

Bidding them nigher draw unto the shore. 

For she had cause to busie them withall; 

And therewith lowdly laught; but nathemore 

Would they once turne, but kept on as afore : 

Which when she saw, she left her lockes undight, 

And running to her boat withouten ore, 

From the departing land it launched light, 

And after them did drive with all her power and might. 

Whom overtaking, she in merry sort 

Then gan to bord, and purpose diversly; 

[Now faiuing dalliaunce and wanton sport, 

Now throwing forth lewd wordes immodestly; 

Till that the palmer gan full bitterly 

Her to rebuke, for being loose and light : 

Which not abiding, but more scornfully 

Scoffing at him that did her iustly wite, 

She turnd her bote about, and from them rowed quite. 

That was the wanton Phsedria, which late 

Pid ferry him over the Idle Lake : 

Whom nought regarding they kept on their gate. 

And all her vaine allurements did forsake; 

When them the wary boteman thus bespake; 

*' Here now behoveth us well to avyse, 

And of our safety good heedc to take; 

For here before a perlous passage lyes, 

Where many mermayds haunt, making false melodies. 

" But by the way there is a great quicksand, 
And a whirlepoole of hidden ieopardy; 
Therefore, Sir Palmer, keepe an even hand; 
For twixt them both the narrow way doth ly." 
Scarse had he saide, when hard at hand they spy, 
That quicksand nigh with water covered; 
But by the checked wave they did descry 
It plaine, and by the sea discoloured : 
It called was the Quickesand of Unthrifty bed. 



256 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

They, passing by, a goodly ship did see ^ 
Laden from far with precious merchandize, 
And bravely furnished as ship mip^ht bee, 
"Which through great disaventure, or mesx)rize, 
Hersclfe had ronne into that hazardize; 
' Whose mariners and merchants with much toylo 
Labour'd in vaine to have recur'd their prize, 
And the rich wares to save from pitteous spo^'le; 
But neither toyle nor traveill might her backe recoylo. 

On th' other side they see that perilous poole. 

That called was the Whirlepoole of Decay ; 

In which full many had with haplesse doole 

Beene suncke, of whom no memorie did stay: 

Whose circled waters rapt with whirling sway, 

Like to a restlesse wheele, still ronning round. 

Did covet, as they passed by that way, 

To draw their bote within the utmost bound 

Of his wide labyrinth, and then to have them dround. 

But th' heedful boteman strongly forth did stretch 
His brawnie amies, and all his bodie straine. 
That th' utmost sandy breach they shortly fetch, 
W^hiles the dredd daunger does behind remaine. 
Suddeme they see from midst of all the maine 
The surging waters like a mountaine rise. 
And the great sea, puft up with proud disdaine. 
To swell above the measure of his guise. 
As threatning to devoure all that his powre despisa. 

The waves come rolling, and the billowes rore 

Outragiously, as" they enraged were. 

Or wrathfuU jSTeptune did them drive before 

His whirling charet for exceeding feare ; 

For not one pufFe of winde there did appeare; 

That all the three thereat woxe much airayd^ 

Unweeting what such horrour straunge did reare. 

Eftsoones they saw an hideous hoast array d ^ 

Of huge sea-monsters, such as living sence dismayd: 

Most ugly shapes and horrible aspects. 
Such as dame JN^ature selfe mote feare to see. 
Or shame, that ever should so fowle defects 
From her most cunning hand escaped bee : 
All dreadfull pourtraicts of deformitee : 
Spring-headed hydres; and sea-shouldring whales; 
Great whirlpooles, wliich all fishes make to flee; 
Bright scolopendraes arm'd with silver scales ; 
Mighty monoceros with immeasured tayles ; 



THE FAERIE QUEENE, 267 

Tlie dreadful fish, tliat liatli deserv'd the name 
Of Death, and like him lookes in dreadfull hew 5 
The griesly wasserman, that makes his game 
The flying ships with swiftnes to pursew; 
Tlie horrible sea-satyre, that doth shew 
His fearefiill face in time of greatest storme; 
Huge ziffias, whom mariners eschew 
No lesse than rockes, as travellers informe ; 
And greedy rosmarines with visages deforme: 

All these, and thousand thousands many more. 
And more deformed monsters thousand fold. 
With dreadfull noise and hollow rombling rore 
Came rushing, in the fomy waves enrold. 
Which seem'd to fly for feare them to behold: 
ISTe wonder, if these did the knight appall; 
For all that here on earth we dreadfull hold, 
Be but' as bugs to fearen babes withall, 
Compared to the creatures in the seas entrall. 

" Feare nought,*' then aside the palmer well aviz'd^ 

** For these same monsters are not these in deed, 

33ut are into these fearefull shapes disguiz'd 

By that same wicked witch, to worke us dreed. 

And draw from on this iourney to proceed." 

Tho, lifting up his vertuous staffe on hye, 

He smote the sea, which calmed was with speed, 

And all that dreadfull armie fast gan flye 

Into great Tethys bosome, where they hidden lye. 

Quit from that danger forth their course they kept ; 

And as they went they heard a ruefull cry 

Of one that way Id and pittifully wept, 

That through the sea th' resounding plaints did fly : 

At last they in an island did espy 

A seemely maiden, sitting by the shore. 

That with great sorrow and sad agony 

Seemed some great misfortune to deplore. 

And lowd to them for succour called evermore. 

Which Guyon hearing, streight his palmer bad 

To stere the bote towards that dolefull mayd, 

That he might know and ease her sorrow sad: 

Who, him avizing better, to him sayd ; 

**Faire sir, be not displeasd if disobayd: 

For ill it were to hear den to her cry; 

For she is inly nothing ill apayd; 

But onely womanish fine forgery, 

Your Btiibborne barb t'aflect with fraile infirmity: 



258 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

*' To wliicli wlien slie your courage hath inclind 

Through foolish pitty, then her guilefull bayt 

She will embosome deeper in your mind, 

And for your mine at the last awaj^t." 

The knight was ruled, and the boteman strayt 

Held on his course with stayed stedfastnesse, 

Ke ever shroncke, ne ever sought to bayt 

His tyred armes for toylesome wearinesse ; 

But with his cares did sweeps the watry wildernesse. 

And now they nigh approched to the sted 

Whereas those mermayds dwelt: it was a still 

And calmy bay, on th' one side sheltered 

With the'broae shadow of an hoarie hill ; 

On th' other side an high rocke toured still, 

That twixt them both a pleasaunt port they made. 

And did like an halfe theatre fulfill : 

There those five sisters had continuall trade, 

And usd to bath themselves in that deceiptfull shade. 

They were faire ladies, till they fondly striv*d 

With th' Heliconian Maides for maystery; 

Of whom they over-comen were depriv'd 

Of their proud beautie, and th' one moyity» 

Transform'd to fish for their bold surquedry; 

But th' upper halfe their hew retayned still. 

And their sweet skill in wonted melody 

Which ever after they abusd to ill, 

T' allure weake traveillers, whom gotten they did kill. 

So now to Guyon, as he passed by. 

Their pleasaunt tunes they sweetly thus applyde; 

*' O thou fayre sonne of gentle Faery, 

That art in mightie armes most magnifyde 

Above all knights that ever batteil tryde, 

O turne thy rudder hetherward awhile : 

Here may thy storme-bett vessell safel3'' ryde; 

This is the port of rest from troublous toyle. 

The worlds sweet in from paine and wearisome turmoyle." 

With that the rolling sea, resounding soft, 

In his big base them fitly answered; 

And on the rocke the waves breaking aloft 

A solemne meane unto them measured; 

The whiles sweet Zephyrus lowd whisteled 

His treble, a straunge kinde of harmony; 

Which Guyons senses softly tickeled, 

That he the boteman bad row easily, 

And let him heare some part of their rare melody. 



THE FAEEIB QUEENE. 259 

But him the palmer from that vanity 
With temperate advice dis counselled. 
That they it past, and shortly gan descry 
Tlie land to which their course they levelled; 
When suddeinly a grosse fog over spred 
With his dull vapour all that desert has. 
And heavens chearefuU face enveloped, 
Tiiat all things one, and one as nothing was. 
And this great imiverse seemd one confused mas. 

Thereat they greatly were dismayd, ne wist 

How to direct theyr way in darkenes wide, 

V \t feard to wander in that wasteful! mist, 

1: or tombling into mischiefe unespyde : 

Worse is the daunger hidden then descrida. 

Suddeinly an innumerable flight 

Of harmefull fowles about them fluttering cride, 

And with their wicked wings them ofte did smight. 

And sore annoyed, groping in that griesly night. 

Even all the nation of unfortunate 

And fatall birds about them flocked were. 

Such as by nature men abhorre and hate; 

The ill-faste owle, deaths dreadfull messengere; 

The hoars night-raven, trump of dolefull drere; 

The lether-winged batt, dayes enimy; 

The ruefull strich, still waiting on the here; 

The whistler shrill, that whoso heares doth dy ; 

The hellish harpyes, prophets of sad destiny : 

All those, and all that els does horror breed, 

About them flew, and fild their sayles with feare : 

Yet stayd they not, but forward did proceed. 

Whiles th' one did row, and th' other stifly stearc ; 

Till that at last the weather gan to cleare. 

And the faire land itselfe did playnly show. 

Said then the palmer ; "Lo! where does appeare 

The sacred soile where all our perills grow ! 

Therefore, Sir Knight, your ready arms about you throw." 

He hearkned, and his armes about him tooke. 

The whiles the nimble bote so well her sped, 

That with her crooked keele the land she strooke: 

Then forth the noble Guy on sallied. 

And his sage palmer that him governed; 

Bat th' other by his bote behind did stay. 

They marched fayrly forth, of nought ydred, 

Both firmely armd for every hard assay, 

With constancy and care, gainst daunger and dismay. 



260 THE TAEEIE QITEENE. 

Ere long tliey Iieard an hideous bellowing 
Of many beasts, that roard outrageously. 
As if that hungers «poynt or Yenus sting 
Had them enraged with fell surquedry ; 
Yet nought they feard, but past on hardily, 
Untill they came in vew of those wilde beasts. 
Who all attonce, gaping full greedily- 
And rearing fercely their upstaring crests, 
!Ran towards to devour those unexpected guesta. 

But, soone as they approcht with deadly threat. 
The palmer over them his staffe upheld. 
His mightie staffe, that could all charmes defeat: 
Eftsoones their stubborne corages were queld, 
And high advaunced crests downe meekely feld; 
Instead of fraying they themselves did feare, 
And trembled, as them passing they beheld: 
Such wondrous powre did in that staffe appeare. 
All monsters to sub dew to him that did it beare. 

Of that same wood it fram*d was cunningly. 
Of which Caduceus whilome was made, 
Caduceus, the rod of Mercury, ^ 
With which he wonts the Stygian realmes invade 
Through ghastly horror and eternall shade; 
Th' inf ernall feends with it he can asswage. 
And Orcus tame, whome nothing can persuade, 
And rule the Furyes when they most doe rage ; 
Such vertue in his staffe had eke this palmer sagew 

Thence passing forth, they shortly doe arryvo 
AVhereas the Bowre of Bliss was situate; 
A place pickt out by choyce of best alyYe, 
That natures worke by art can imitate : 
In which whatever in this worldly state 
Is sweete and pleasing unto living sense. 
Or that may dayntest fantasy aggrate, 
Was poured forth with plentifuli dispence. 
And made there to abound with lavish affluence. 

Goodly it was enclosed rownd about. 

As well their entred guestes to keep within. 

As those unruly beasts to hold without ; 

Yet was the fence thereof but weake and thin ; 

Noughli feard their force, that fortilage to win. 

But Wisedomes powre, and Temperaunces might. 

By which the mightiest things efibrccd bin : 

And eke the gate was wrought of substaunce lighi^ 

Kather for pleasui'o then for battery or fight. 



THE FAEBIE QTJEENB. 201 

Yt framed was of precious yvovy, 

That seemd a worke of admirable witt ; 

Arid therein all the famous history 

Of lason and Medseawas ywritt; 

Her mighty charmes, her furious loving fitt ; 

His goodly conquest of the golden fleece, 

His falsed fayth, and love too lightly flitt ; 

The wondred Argo, which in venturous peece 

First through the Euxine seas bore all the flowr of Greece. 

Ye might have seen the frothy billowes fry 

Under the ship as thorough them she went, 

That seemd the waves were into yvory, 

Or yvory into the waves were sent ; 

And otherwhere the snowy substaunce sprenfc 

With vermeil, like tlie boyes blood therein shed, 

A piteous spectacle did represent ; 

And otherwhiles with gold besprinkeled 

Yt seemed th' enchaunted flame, which did Crciisa wed. 

All this and more might in that goodly gate 

Be red, that ever open stood to all 

Which thether came : but in the porch there sate 

A comely personage of stature tall. 

And semblaunce pleasing, more than natural], 

That traveilers to him seemd to entize ; 

His looser garment to the ground did fall, 

And flew about his heeles in wanton wize, 

Kot fitt for speedy pace or manly exercize. 

They in that place him Genius did call : 

]N^ot that celestiall Powre, to whom the care 

Of life, and generation of all 

Tlmt lives, perteines in charge particulare, 

Who wondrous things concerning our welfare, 

And straunge phantomes, doth lett us ofte foresee, 

And ofte of secret ills bids us beware : 

That is our Selfe, whom though we do not see, 

Yet each doth in himselfe it well perceive to bee : 

Therefore a god him sage Antiquity 

Did wisely make, and good Agdistes call; 

But this same was to that quite contrary. 

The foe of life, that good envyes to all,. 

That secretly doth us procure to fall 

Through guilefull semblauts, which he makes us see; 

He of this gardin had the govern all, 

And Pleasures porter was devizd to bee, 

Holding a stafle in hand for more formalitee. 



263 THE FAERIE QUEENB. 

With diverse floTrres lie daintily was deckt. 
And strowed rownd about ; and by his side 
A mighty mazer bowle of wine was sett, 
As if it liad to him bene sacrifide ; 
"Wherewith all new-come guests he gratyfide: 
. So did he eke Sir Guy on passing by; 
But he his ydle curtesie defide,_ 
And overthrew his bowle disdainfully, 
And broke his stalTe, with which he charmed sembUiuts sly. 

Thus being entred they behold arownd ^ 

A large and spacious plaine, on every side 

Strowed with pleasauns ; whose fayre grassy grownd 

Mantled with greene, and goodly beautifide 

W^itli all the ornaments of Floraes pride. 

Wlierewith her mother Art, as halfe in scorno 

Of ni^rgard ISTature, like a pompous bride 

Did clecke her, and too lavishly adorne, 

When forth from virgin bowre she comes in th' carl \' ir^onie* 

Thereto the hevens alwayes joviall 

Lookte on them lovel^^ still in stedfaste state, 

Ne suifred storme nor frost on them to fall, 

Their tender buds or leaves to violate : 

IN^or scorching heat, nor cold intemperate, 

T' afflict the creatures which therein did dwell; 

But the milde ayre with season moderate 

Gently attempred, and disposd so well, 

That still it breathed forth sweet spirit andhole^om smell 2 

More sweet and holesome then the pleasaunt hill 
Of Ehodope, on which the nymphe, that bore 
A gyaunt babe, herselfe for griefe did kill ; 
Or the Thessalian Tempo, where of yore 
Fayre Daphne Phoebus hart with love did gore 5 
Or Ida, where the gods lov'd to repayre. 
Whenever they their hevenly bowres forlore ; 
Or sweet Parnasse the haunt of muses fayre : 
Or Eden selfe, if ought with Eden mote compayre. 

Much wondred Guyon at the fayre aspect 

Of that sweet place, yet suffred no delight 

To sincke into his sence nor mind affect ; 

But passed forth, and lookt still forward right, 

Brydling his will and maystering his might: 

Till that he came unto another gate ; 

No gate, but like one, beicg goodly dight 

With bowes and braunches, which did broad dilate 

Their clasping armcs in wanton wreathings intricate. 




" In her left hand a cup of gold she held, 
And with her right the riper frait did reach " 

Book II. Canto XII. Ver. i 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 203 

So fasliioned a porcli with rare device, 
Arclit ovQr liead with an embracing vine, 
Wiiose bounches hanfring downe seemd to entice 
All passers-by to taste their lushious wine. 
And did themselves into their hands incline, 
As freely offering to be gathered ; ^ . 
Some deepe empurpled as the hyacine, 
Some as the rubine laughing sweetely red. 
Some like faire emeraudes, not yet well ripenea : 

And them amongst some were of burnisht gold. 

So made by art to beautify the rest, 

Which did themselves emongst the leaves enfold, 

As lurking from the vew of covetous guest, 

That the vv eake boughes with so rich load opprest 

Did bow adowne as overburdened. 

Under that porch a comely dame did rest 

Clad in fayre weedes but fowle disordered. 

And garments loose that seemd unmeet for womanhed: 

In her left hand a cup of gold she held, 

And with her right the riper fruit did reach, 

Whose sappy liquor, that with fulnesse sweld, 

Into her cup she scruzd with daintie breach 

Of her fine fingers, without fowle empeach, 

That so faire winepresse made the wine more sweet : 

Thereof she usd to give to drinke to eaeh. 

Whom passing by she happened to meet : 

It was her guise all straungers goodly so to greet. 

So she to Guyon offred it to tast ; 

Who, taking it out of her tender bond. 

The cup to ground did violently cast, 

That all in pceces it was broken fond, 

And with the lio[uor stained all the loud: 

Whereat Excesse exceedingly was wroth, 

Yet no'te the same amend, ne yet withstond, 

But suffered him to passe, all were she loth ; 

Who, nought regarding her displeasure, forward goth. 

There the most daintie paradise on ground 

Itselfe doth offer to his sober eye, 

In which all pleasures plenteously abownd, 

And none does others happinesse envye ; 

The painted fiowres ; the trees upshooting hye; 

The dales for shade; the hilles for breathing space; 

The trembling groves ; the christall running by ; 

And, that which all faire workes dolh most aggraco, 

The art, which all that wrought, nppcared in no place. 



264 THE FAEEIE QITEENE. 

One would Lave tliouglit, (so cunniDgly the riido 

And scorned partes were mingled with the fine,) ^ 

That Nature had for wantonesse ensude 

Art, and that Art at !N'ature did repine ; 

So striving each th' other to undermine, 

Each did the others worke more beautify; 

So diflfring both in willes agreed in fine : 

So all agreed, through sweete diversity. 

This gardin to adorne with aU variety. 

And in the midst of all a fountaine stood. 

Of richest substance that on earth might bee. 

So pure and shiny that the silver flood ^ 

Through every channell nmning one might see ; 

Most goodly it vrith curious yma^ceree 

Was over-wrought, and shapes of naked boyes, 

Of which some seemd with Kvely iollitee 

To fly about, playing their wanton toyes, 

Whylest others did themselves embay in liquid ioyes. 

And over aU of purest gold was spred 

A trayle of yvie in his native hew; 

For the rich metall was so coloured, ^ 

That wight, who did not well avis'd it vew, 

"Would surely deeme it to bee jwie trew: 

Low his lascivious armes adown did creepe, 

That themselves dipping in the silver dew 

Their fleecy flowres they fearfully did steepe, 

"WTiich drops of christall seemd for wantones to weep. 

Infinit streames continually did well 

Out of this fountaine, sweete and fairs to see. 

The which into an ample laver fell, 

And shortly gTew to so great quantitie. 

That like a litle lake it seemd to bee ; 

Whose depth exceeded not three cubits hight, 

That through the waves one might the bottom see, 

All pav'd beneath with jaspar shining bright. 

That seemd the fountaine in that sea did sayle upright. 

And all the margent round about was sett 

With shady laureU trees, thence to defend 

The sunny beames which on the billowes bett. 

And those which therein bathed mote oflend. 

As Guyo hapned by the same to wend. 

Two naked damzelles he therein espyde, 

Which therein bathing seemed to contend 

And wrestle wantonly, ne car'd to hyde 

Tlieir dainty paries from vew of any which them eyi 



THE FAERIE QXTEENE. 265 

Sometimes tLe one would lift the otiier quiglit 

Above the waters, and then downe againe 

Her plong, as over-mays tered by might, ^ 

Where both awhile would covered remaine, 

And each the other from to rise restraine : 

The whiles their snowy limbes, as through a vele. 

So through the christall waves appeared plaine : 

Then suddeinly both would themselves unhele, 

And th' amorous sweet spoiles to greedy eyes reveio. 

As that faire starre, the messenger of morno, 

His deawy face out of the sea doth reare : 

Or as the Cyprian goddesse, newly borne 

Of th' ocean's fruitfull froth, did first appearej 

Such seemed they, and so their yellow heare 

Oiristalline humor dropped downe apace. 

Whom such when Guyon saw, him drew hnn iienvo. 

And somewhat gan relent his earnest pace ; 

His stubborne brcst gan secret pleasaunce to embrace. 

The wanton maidens him espying, stood 

Gazing awhile at his unwonted guise ; 

Then th* one herselfe low ducked in the flood, 

Abasht that her a straunger did avise : 

But th' other rather higher did arise, 

And her two lilly paps aloft displayd, 

And all, that might his melting hart entyso 

To her delights, she unto him bewrayd ; 

The rest, hidd underneath, him more desirous made. 

With that the other likewise up arose. 

And her faire lockes, which formerly were bownd 

Up in one knott, she low adowne dicl lose, 

Which flowing long and thick her cloth'd arownd, 

And th' yvorie in golden mantle gownd : 

So that faire spectacle from him was reft. 

Yet that which reft it no lesse faire was fownd: 

So hidd in lockes and waves from lookers theft, 

Nought but her lovely face she for his looking left. 

Withall she laughed, and she blusht withall. 

That blushing to her laughter gave more grace. 

And laughter to her blushing, as did fall. 

Now when they spyde the knight to slacke his pace 

Them to behold, and in his sparkling face 

The secrete signes of kindled lust appeare. 

Their wanton merriments they did encreace. 

And to him beckncd to approch more neare, . . v 

And rghewd him many isights that corago cold could vei-ro : 



26(3 THE FAERIE QTJEENE. 

On wliicli wlien gazing him tlie palmer sa^, 

He mucli rebukt those wandring e^^es of hi?. 

And counseld well him forward thence did draw, 

ISTow are they come nigh to the Bqwre of Blis, 

Of her fond favorites so nam*d amis ; 

When thns the palmer; "Now, sir, well avise; 

For here the end of all onr traveill is : 

Here wonnes Acrasia, whom we must surprise, 

Els she will slip away, and all our drift despise." 

Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound. 

Of all that mote delight a daintie eare, 

Such as attonce might not on Hving ground. 

Save in this paradise, be heard elsewhere : 

Hight hard it was for wight which did it heare. 

To read what manner musicke that mote bee ; 

For all that pleasing is to living eare 

Was there consorted in one harmonee ; 

Birdes, voices, instruments, windes, waters, all agree t 

The loyous birdes, shrouded in chearefull shade. 
Their notes unto the voice attempred sweet ; 
Th' angelicall soft trembling voyces made 
To th' instruments divine respondence meet ; 
The silver-sounding instruments did meet 
With the base murmure of the waters fall ; 
The waters fall vrith difierence discreet, 
iN'ow soft, now loud, unto the wind did call ; 
The gentle warbling wind low answered to all. 

There, whence that musick seemed heard to bee. 

Was the faire witch herselfe now solacing 

With a new lover, whom, through sorceree 

And witchcraft, she from farre did thether bring : 

There she had him now laid a slombering 

In secret shade after long wanton ioyes ; 

Whilst round about them pleasauntly did sing 

Many faire ladies and lascivious boyes, 

That ever mixt their song with light licentious toyes. 

And all that while right over him she hong 

With her false eyes fast fixed in his sight. 

As seeking medicine whence she was stong. 

Or greedily depasturing delight; 

And oft inclining downe with kisses light, 

Eor feare of waking him, his lips bedewd. 

And through his humid eyes did sucke his spright. 

Quite molten into lust and pleasure lewd; 

Wherewith she sighed soft, as if his case she rewd. 



THE FaEEIE qtjeene. 267 

Tlie wliiles some one did cliaunfc tliis lovely lay; 

Ak ! see, whoso fayre thing doestfaine to see. 

In springing floiore the image of thy day ! 

Ah 1 see the virgin rose, hoio sioeetly shee 

Dothjlrst jpeepefoorth with bashfull modes tee^ 

That fairer seemes the lesse ye see her may ! 

Lo ! see, soone after hoto more hold and free 

Her bared hosome she doth broad display; < 

Lo ! see soone after how she fades and falls aioay I 

So passeth, in the passing of a day, 

Ofmortall life the leafe, the bud, the floiore; 

Ne more dothjlorish after first decay. 

That earst was sought to declc both bed and boiore 

Of many a lady, andmanyaparamoiore! 

Gather therefore the rose whitest yet is prime. 

For soone comes age that tvill her pride deflowre : 

Gather the rose of lope whitest yet is time. 

Whitest loving thou mayst loved be with eqiiall crime. 

He ceast; and tlien gan all tlie quire of birdes 
'J heir diverse notes t'attime unto his lay. 
As in approvaunce of his pleasing wordes. 
The constant payre heard all that he did say, 
Yet swarved not, but kept their forward way 
Through many covert groves and thickets close, 
In which they creeping did at last display 
That wanton lady, with her lover lose. 
Whose sleepie head she in her lap did soft dispose. 

Upon a bed of roses she was layd, 

As faint through heat, or diglit to pleasant sin; 

And was arayd, or rather disarayd, 

All in a vcle of silke and silver thin. 

That liid no whit her alablaster skin, 

}3at rather shewd more white, if more might bee: 

More subtile web Arachne cannot spin ; 

jNTor the fine nets, which oft we woven see 

Of scorched deaw, do not in th' ayre more lightly lico. 

Her snowy brest was bare to ready spoyle 
Of hungry eies, which n'ote therewith be lild ; 
And yet, through languour of her late sweet toyle, 
Few drops, more cleare then nectar, forth distild, 
That like pure orient perles adowne it trild; 
And lier faire eyes, sweet smyling in delight, 
Moystened their lierie beames, with which she thrild 
Fraile harts, yet quenched not; like starry light, [!)right. 
Which, sparckhng on the silent waves, does seeme more 



268 ' THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Tlie young man, sleeping by Iier, seemd to bo 

Some goodly swayne of honorable place; 

Til at certes it great pitty was to see 

Him bis nobility so fowle deface : 

A sweet regard and amiable grace. 

Mixed with manly sternesse, did appeare. 

Yet sleeping, in bis well-proportiond face; 

And on bis tender lips tbe downy beare 

Did not but freshly spring, and silken blossoms bcaro. 

His warlike armes, the ydle instruments 
Of sleeping praise, were hong upon a tree : 
And his brave shield, fvfil of old moniments, 
Was fowly ras't, tbat none the signes might see; 
Ise for them ne for honour cared bee, 
Ne ought that did to his advauncement tend; 
But in lewd loves, and wastfull luxuree, 
His dayes, his goods, his bodie he did^pend: 
O horrible enchantment, that him so did blend ! 

The noble elfe and carefull palmer drew 

So nigh them, minding nought but lustfull game. 

That suddein forth they on them rusht, and threw 

A subtile net, which only for that same 

The skilfull palmer formally did frame: 

So held them under fast ; the whiles the rest 

Pled all away for feare of fowler shame. 

Tlie faire enchauntresse, so unwares opprest, 

Tr3-de all her arts and ail her sleights thence out to wrest ; 

And eke her lover strove ; but all in vaine : 

For tiiat same net so cunningly was wound, 

That neither guile nor force might it distraine. 

They tooke them both, and both them strongly bound 

In captive bandes, T^hich there they readie found: 

I3ut her in chaines of adamant he tyde; . 

For nothing else might keepe her safe and sound: 

]3ut Verdant (so he bight) he soone untyde. 

And counsell sage in steed thereof to him apply de. 

But all those pleasaunt bowres, and pallace brave, 
Guyorubroke downe with rigour pittilesse : 
"Ne ought their goodly workmanship might save 
Them from the tempest of his wrathful n esse. 
But that their blisse he turn'd to balefulnesse, 
Their groves he feld; their gardins did deface; 
Their arbors spoyle; their cabinets suppresse: 
Their banket- houses burne; their buildings race; 
And, of the fayrest late, now made the fowlest place. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 269 

Then led they her away, and eke that knight 

They with them led, both sorrowfull and sad: 

The way they came, the. same retourn'd they right. 

Till they arrived where they lately had 

Charm'd those wild beasts that rag'd with farie mad ; 

Which, now awaking, fierce at them gan fly, 

As in their mistresse reskew, whom they lad ; 

But them the palmer soone did pacify. [didly. 

Then Gayon askt, what meant those beastes which tiiera 

Sayd he; " These seeming beasts are men in deed. 
Whom this enchauntresse hath transformed thus, 
Whylome her lovers, which her lustes did feed, 
Now turned into figures hideous. 
According to their mindes like monstruous." 
** Sad end,'* quoth he, " of life intemperate. 
And mourneful meed of ioyes delicious ! 
But, palmer, if it mote thee so aggrate, 
Let them returned be unto their former state.** 

Streightway he with his virtuous staffe them strooke. 

And streight of beastes they comely men became ; 

Yet being men they did unmanly looke. 

And stared ghastly; some for inward shame. 

And some for wrath to see their captive dame: 

But one above the rest in speciall, 

That had an hog beene late, hight Grylle by name, 

Repyned greatly, and did him miscall 

That had from hoggish forme him brought to naturall. 

Saide Guyon ; " See the mind of beastly man. 

That hath so soone forgot the excellence 

Of his creation, when he life began, 

That now he chooseth with vile difference 

To be a beast, and lacke intellij2:ence !'* 

To whom the palmer thus ; " The donghill kinde 

Delightes in filth and fowle incontinence : 

Let Gryll be Gryll, and have his hoggish minde : 

But let ua henco depart wliilest wether serves and winde." 



THE THIRDE BOOKE 

OP 

THE PAEEIE QUEE^nE, 

CONTAYXING 

^;t ITcgciiXy of ^ritoKtartis, or of 0>istiii>. 



IT falls me here to write of Cliastity 
That fajTest vertue, far above the rest : 
For which what needes me fetch from Faery 
Forreine ensamples it to hare exprest ? 
Sith it is shrined in my soveraines brest, 
And formd so hvely in each perfect part. 
That to all ladies, which have it profest, 
Need but behold the pourtraict of her hart; 
If pourtrayd it might bee by any living art : 

But living art may not least part expresse, 

Nor life -resembling pencill it can paynt: 

All were it Zeuxis or Praxiteles, 

His dsedale hand would faile and greatly fajoit. 

And her perfections with his error taynt : 

Ne poets witt, that passeth painter farre 

In picturing the parts of beauty daynt, 

So hard a workemanship adventure darre, 

For feare through want of words her excellence to marre. 

How then shall I, apprentice of the skill 
That whilome in divinest wits did rayne, 
Presume so high to stretch mine humble quill P 
Yet now my lucklesse lott doth me constrayne 
Hereto x^erforce : but, O dredd soverayne. 
Thus far forth pardon, sith that choicest witt 
Cannot your glorious pourtraict figure playne. 
That I in colourd showes may shadow itt. 
And antique praises unto present persons fitt. 

But if in living colours, and right hew, 
Tbyselfe thou covet to see pictured, 
"Who can it doe more hvely, or more trew, 
Then that sweete verse, with nectar sprinckeled. 
In which a gracious servaunt pictured 
His Qmthia, his heavens fajTest light? 
That vritli his melting sweetnes ravished, 
And with the wonder of her beames bright, 
My Ecnces lulled are in slomber of dehght. 



THE FAERIE QUEENB. 271 

But let tliat same delitious poet lend 

A little leave unto a rusticke muse 

To sing kis mistresse prayse ; and let him mend, 

If ought amis her liking may abuse : 

Ke let his fayrest Cynthia refuse 

In mirrours more then one herselfe to see ; 

"But either Gloriana let her chuse, 

Or in Belphoebe fashioned to bee ; 

In th' one her rule, in th' other her rare chastitce. 



CANTO I. 

Guyon encountreth J^ritomart : 
Fayre Florimell is chaced : 

Duessaes traiiies and IMalecas- 
taes champions are defaced. 

The famous Briton prince and Faery knight. 
After long ways and perilous paines endur'd. 
Having their weary limbes to perfect plight 
Restord, and sory wounds right well recur'd, 
<)f the faire Alma greatly were procur d 
To make there lenger soiourne and abode; 
But, when thereto they might not be allur'd 
From seeking praise and deedes of armes abrode, 
They courteous conge tooke, and forth together ycde. 

But the captiv'd Acrasia he sent, 

Because of traveill long, a nigher way, 

With a strong gard, all reskew to prevent, 

And her to Faery court safe to convay ; 

That her for witnes of his hard assay 

Unto his Faery Queene he might present: 

But he himselfe betooke another way, 

To make more triall of his hardiment, 

And seek adventures, as he with Prince Arthure went. 

Long so they traveiled through wastefull waye5. 

Where daungers dwelt, and perils most did wonne, 

To hunt for glory and renowmed prayse : 

Full many countrcyes they did overrone. 

From the uprising to the setting sunne, 

And many hard adventures did atchieve ; 

Of all the which they honour ever wonne. 

Seeking the weake oppressed to reHcve, 

And to recover right for such as wrong did grieve. 



272 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

At last, as tlirougli an open plaine they yode, 
They spide a knight that towards pricked fayre; 
And him beside an aged squire there rode, 
That seemd to couch under his shield three-square. 
As if that age badd him that burden spare, 
And yield it those that stouter could it wield ! 
He, them espying, gan himselfe prepare, * 
And on his arme addresse his goodly shield 
That bore a lion passant in a golden field. 

Which seeing good Sir Guyon deare besought 

The Prince, of grace, to let him ronne that turne. 

He graunted : then the Faery quickly raught 

His poj^nant speare, and sharply gan to spurne 

His fomy steed, whos fiery feete did burne 

The verdant gras as he thereon did tread ; 

]Ne did the other backe his foote returne, 

But fiercely forward came withouten dread, 

And bent his dreadful speare against the others heai 

They beene ymett, and both theyr points arriv'd ; 

Uut Guyon drove so furious and fell. 

That seemd both shield and plate it would have riv'd; 

Nathelesse it bore his foe not from his sell, 

IBut made him stagger, as he were not weU: 

But Guyon selfe, ere well he was aware, 

Nigh a speares length behind his crouper fell; 

Yet in his fall so well himselfe he bare. 

That mischievous mischaunce his life and limbs did spare. 

Great shame and sorrow of that fall he tooke ; 

Tor never yet, sith warlike armes he bore. 

And shivering speare in bloody field first shooke, 

He fownd himselfe dishonoured so sore. 

Ah ! gentlest knight, that ever armor bore, 

Let not thee grieve dismounted to have beene, 

And brought to grownd, that never wast before ; 

For not thy fault, but secret powre unseene ; 

That speare enchaunted was which layd thee on the greene I 

But weenedst thou what wight thee overthrew. 

Much greater griefe and shamefuller rcgrett 

For thy hard fortune then thou wouldst renew. 

That of a single damzell thou wert mett 

On equall plaine, and there so hard besett : 

Fven the famous Britomart it was. 

Whom straunge adventure did from Britayne fett 

To seeke her lover (love far sought alas !) 

Whose image shee had scene in Vcaus looking-glas. 



THE FAEEIE QXTEENE. 273 

Full of disciainefull wrath, lie fierce uprose 

For to revenge that fowle reprochefull shame, 

And, snatching his bright sword, began to clos3 

With her on foot, and stoutly forward came ; 

Dye rather would he then endure that same. 

Which when his palmer saw, he gan to feare 

His toward perill, and untoward blame, 

Which by that new rencoimter he should reare ; 

For Death sate on the point of that enchaunted speare : 

And hasting towards him gan fayre perswade 

Not to provoke misfortune, nor to weene 

His speares default to mend with cruell blade; 

For by his mightie science he had scene 

The secrete vertue of that weapon keene. 

That mortall puissaunce mote not withstond : 

Nothing on earth mote alwaies happy beene ! 

Great hazard were it, and adventure fond. 

To loose long-gotten honour with one evill honi 

By such good meanes he him discounselled 
From prosecuting his revenging rage : 
And eke the prince like treaty handeled. 
His wrathfull will with reason to aswage ; 
And laid the blame, not to his carriage, 
But to his starting steed that swarv'd asydfl^ 
And to the ill purveyaunce of his page. 
That had his furnitures not firmely tyde : 
So is his angry corage fayrly pacifyde. 

Thus reconcilement was betweene them knitt, 
Through goodly temper aunce and affection chaste; 
And either vowd with all their power and witt 
To let not others honour be defaste 
Of friend or foe, whoever it embaste, 
Ne armes to bear against the others syde : 
In which accord the prince was also plaste, 
And with that golden chaine of concord tyde : 
So goodly all agreed, they forth yfere did ryde. 

O, goodly usage of those antique tymes, ^ 
In which the sword was servaunt unto right ; 
When not for malice and contentious crymes. 
But all for prayse and proofe of manly might. 
The martiall brood accustomed to fight : 
Then honour was the meed of victory. 
And yet the vanquished had no despight :' 
Let later age that noble use envy, 
Vy le rancor to avoid and cruell surqucdry I 



274 THE FAEBIE QUEEKE. 

Jjbng: tliey tlius travelled in friendly wise, 

Tlirougli countreyes waste, and eke well edifyde. 

Seeking adv^entures liard, to exercise 

Their pnissaunce, wliylome full dernly tryde ; 

At length they came into a forest wyde, 

Whose hideous horror and sad trembling sownd 

Full griesly seemed : therein they long did ryde, 

Yet tract of living creature none they fownd. 

Save beares, lyons, and buls, which romed them arownd 

All suddenly ont of the thickest brush, 
Upon a milk-white palfrey all alone, 
A goodly lady did foreby them rush, 
Whose face did seeme as cleare as christall stone. 
And eke, through feare, as white as whales bone : 
Her garments all were wrought of beaten gold. 
And all her steed with tinsel! trappings shone, 
Which lledd so fast that nothing mote him hold, 
And scarse them leasure gave her passing to behold. 

Still as she fledd her eye she backward threw. 

As fearing evill that poursewed her fast ; 

And her faire yellow locks behind her flew. 

Loosely disperst with puff of every blast : 

All as a blazing starre doth farre outcast 

His hearie beames, and flaming locks dispredd, 

At sight whereof the people stand aghast; 

But the sage wisard telles as he has redd. 

That it importunes death and doleful! dreryhedd. 

So as they gazed after her awhyle, 

Lo ! where a griesly foster forth did rush. 

Breathing out beastly lust her to defyle : 

His tyreling jade he fiersly forth did push 

Through thicke and thin, botli over banck and bush. 

In hope her to attaine by hooke or crooke. 

That from his gory sydes the blood did gush: 

Large were his limbes, and terrible his looke, 

And in his clownish hand a sharp bore-speare he shooke,' 

TVliich outrage when those gentle knights did see, 
Full of great envy and fell gealosy, 
They stayd not to aviso who first should bee. 
But all s'purd after, fast as they mote fly. 
To reskew her from shameful! villany. 
Tlie prince and Guyon equally bylive 
Herselfe pursewd, in hope to win thereby 
Most goodly rneede, the farest dame alive: 
But after the foule foster Timias did strive. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 275 

The whiles faire Britomart, whose constant mind 
Would not so lightly follow beauties chace, 
Ne reckt of ladies love, did stay behynd; 
And them awaited there a certaine space, 
To weete if they would turne backe to that place: 
But when she saw them gone, she forward went. 
As lay her iourne^^ through that perlous pace. 
With stedfast corage and stout hardiment ; 
Ne evil thing she feard, ne evill thing she ment. 

At last, as nigh out of the wood she came, 

A stately castle far away she spyde, 

To which her steps directly she did frame. 

That castle was most goodly edifyde, 

Arid plaste for pleasure nigh that forrest syde s 

But faire before the gate a spatious playne, 

Mantled with greene, itselfe did spredden wyde, 

On which she saw six koights, that did darrayne 

Fiers battaill against one with cruell might and mayne. 

Mainely they all attonce upon him laid, 

And sore besett on every side arownd. 

That nigh he breatldesse grew, yet nought dismaid, 

Ne ever to them yielded foot of grownd, 

All had he lost much blood through many a wowndj 

But stoutly dealt his blowes, and every way, 

To which he turned in his wrathfidl stownd. 

Made them recoile, and fly from dredd decay. 

That none of all the six before him durst assay : 

Like dastard curres, that, having at a bay 
The salvage beast embost in wearie chace. 
Pare not adventure on the stubborne pray, 
Ne byte before, but rome from place to places 
To get a snatch when turned is his face. 
In such distresse and doubtfull ieopardy 
When Britomart him saw, she ran apaco 
Unto his reskew, and with earnest cry 
Badd those same six forbeare that single enimy. 

But to her cry they list not lenden eare, 

"Ne ought the more their mightie strokes surceasse j 

But, gathering him rownd about more neare, 

Their direfull rancour rather did encreasse ; 

Till that she, rushing through the thickest prcasse. 

Perforce disparted their compacted gyre, 

And soone compeld to hearken unto peace : 

Tho gan she myldly of them to inquyre 

The cause of their dissention and outrageous yre. 



iro THE FAEEIE QUEEN E. 

T^Tiereto that single knight did answere frame ; 
*' These six would me enforce, by oddes of might, 
To chaunge my liefe, and love another dame ; 
That death me hefer were then such despight, 
So unto TTTong to yield my wrested right : 
For I love one, the truest one on grownd, 
Ke list me chaunge ; she th' errant damzell hight ; 
For whose deare sake full many a bitter stownd 
I have endurd, and tasted many a bloody wownd." 

" Certes," said she, " then beene ye sixe to blame, 

To weene your wrong by force to iustify: 

For knight to leare his lady were great shame 

That faithfull is ; and better were to dy. 

All losse is lesse, and lesse the infamy. 

Then losse of love to him that loves but one : 

JS^e may love be compeld by maistery; 

For, soone as maistery comes, sweet love anone 

Taketh his nimble winges, and soone away is gone." 

Then spake one of those six ; " There dwelleth. here 

Within this castle-wall a lady fayre, 

Whose soveraine beautie hath no Hving pere ; 

Thereto so bounteous and so debonayre. 

That never any mote with her compayre : 

She hath ordaind this law, which we approve. 

That every knight which doth this way repayre. 

In case he have no lady nor no love. 

Shall doe unto her service, never to remove : 

" But if he have a lady or a love, 

Then must he her forgoe with fowle defame^ 

Or els with us by dint of swoi d approve. 

That she is fairer than our fairest dame ; 

As did this knight, before ye hether came." 

*' Perdy," said Britomart, **the choise is^hard! 

But what reward had he that overcame?" 

" He should advaunced bee to high regard," 

Said they, " and have our ladies love for his reward. 

" Therefore aread, sir, if thou have a love." 

**Love have I sure," quoth she, "but lady none; 

Yet will I not fro miue owne love remove, 

Ke to your lady will I service done. 

But wreake your wronges wrought to this knight alone. 

And prove his cause." AYith that, her mortall speare 

She mightily aventred towards one. 

And downe him smot ere well aware he weare ; 

Then to the next she rode» and downe the next did beare. 



THE PAEEIB QUEENS. 277 

Ne did slie stay till three on ground slie layd, 
That none of them himselfe could reare againe : 
The fourth was by that other knight dismayd, 
All were he wearie of his former paine ; 
Tliat now there do but two of six remaine ; 
Which two did yield before she did them smight. 
^ Ah !" said she then, ** now may ye all see plaine, 
That truth is strong, and trew love most of might, 
That for his trusty servaunts doth so strongly fight*' 

*•' Too well we see," saide they, '^ and prove too well 
Our faulty weakness, and your matchlesse might : 
Forthy, faire sir, yours be the damozell. 
Which by her owne law to your lot doth light, 
And we your liegemen faith unto you plight." 
So underneath her feet their swords they mard, 
And, after, her besought, well as they might, 
To enter in and reape the dew reward : 
She graunted; and then in they aU together far*d,'* 

Long were it to describe the goodly frame 

And stately port of Castle loyeous, 

(For so that castle hight by common name,) 

Where they were entertaynd with courteous 

And comely glee of many gratious 

Faire ladies, and of many a gentle knight ; 

Who, through a chamber long and spacious; 

Eftsoones them brought unto their ladies sight. 

That of them cleeped was the lady of dehght. 

But, for to teU the sumptuous aray 

Of that great chamber, should be labour lost; 

For living wit, I weene, cannot display 

The roiaU riches and exceeding cost 

Of every pillour and of every post, 

Which all of purest bullion framed were, 

And with great perles and pretious stones embost ; 

That the bright glister o.f their beames cleare 

Did sparckle forth great light, and glorious did appearo. 

These stranger knights, through passing, forth were led 
Into an inner rowme, whose royaltee 
And rich purveyance might uneath be red ; 
Mote Princes place beseeme so deckt to bee. 
Which stately manner whenas they did see, • 
The image of superfluous riotize. 
Exceeding much the state of meane degree, 
They greatly wondred whence so sumptuous guize 
Might be maintaynd, and each gan diversely devize. 
13 



278 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

Tlie wals were round about apparelled 

With costly clothes of Arras and of Toure ; 

In which with cunning hand was pourtrahed 

Tlie love of Venus and her paramoure. 

The fayre Adonis, turned to a flowre ; 

A work of rare device and wondrous wit. 

First did it shew the bitter baleful! stowre. 

Which her essayd with many a fervent fit, 

When first her tender hart was with his beautie smifc. 

Then with what sleights and sweet allurements she 

Entyst the boy, as well that art she knew, 

And wooed him her paramoure to bee ; 

InTow making girlonds of each flowre that grew* 

To crown e his golden lockes with honour dew ; 

"Now leading him into a secret shade 

From his beauperes, and from bright heavens vew. 

Where hini to sleepe she gently would perswade. 

Or bathe him in a fountaine by some covert glade : 

And, whilst he slept, she over him would spred 
Her mantle colour'd Hke the starry skyes, 
And her soft arme lay undern-eath his hed. 
And with ambrosiall kisses bathe his eyes ; 
And, whilst he bath'd, with her two crafty speys 
She secretly would search each daintie hm, 
And throw into.the well sweet rosemaryes, 
And fragrant violets, and paunces trim ; 
And ever with, sweet nectar she did sprinkle him. 

So did she steale his heedelesse hart away, 

And ioyd his love in secret unespyde : 

But for she saw him bent to cruell play, 

To hunt the salvage beast in forrest wyde, 

Dreadfull of daunger that mote him betyde, 

She oft and oft adviz'd him to refraine 

From chase of greater beastes, whose brutish pryde 

Mote breede him scath unwares : but all in vaine ; 

For who can shun the chance that dest'ny doth ordaineP 

Lo ! where beyond he lyeth languishing. 

Deadly engored of a great wilde bore ; 

And by liis side the goddesse groveling 

Makes for him endlesse mone, and evermore" 

With her soft garment wipes away the gore 

Which staynes his snowy skin with hatefull hews 

But, when she saw no helpe might him restore. 

Him to a dainty flowre she did transmew, 

Whioh in that cloth was wrought, as if it lively j;rew. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 279 

So was that chamber clad in goodly wize : 

And rownd about it many beds were dight. 

As whylome was the antique worldes guize. 

Some for untimely ease, some for delight. 

As pleased thein to use that use it ifiight : 

And all was full of damzels and of squyres, 

Dauncing and reveling both day and night. 

And swimming: deepe in sensuall desyres ; 

And Cupid still emongest them kindled lustfull fyres. 

And all the while sweet musicke did divide 

Her looser notes with Lydian harmony; 

And all the while sweete birdes thereto applido 

Their daintie layes and dulcet melody, 

Ay caroling of love and iollity, 

That wonder was to heare their trim consort. 

Which when those knights beheld, with scomefull eye 

They sdeigned such lascivious disport. 

And loath'd the loose demeanure of that wanton sort. 

Thence they were brought to that great ladies vew. 
Whom they found sitting on a sumptuous bed, 
That glistred all with gold and glorious shew. 
As the proud Persian queenes accustomed : 
She seemd a woman of great bountihed 
And of rare beautie, saving that askaunce 
Her wanton eyes (ill signes of womanhed) 
Did roll too lightly, and too often glaunce, 
Without regard of grace or comely amenaunce. 

Long worke it were, and needlesse, to devize 
' Their goodly entertainement and great glee : 
She caused them be led in courteous wize 
Into a bowre, disarmed for to be. 
And cheared well with wine and spiceree : 
The E<edcrosse Knight was soon disarmed there; 
Eut the brave mayd would not disarmed bee. 
But onely vented up her umbriere. 
And so did let her goodly visage to appere. 

As when fayre Cynthia, in darksome night. 

Is in a noyous cloud enveloped, 

Where she may finde the substance thin and light, 

Breakes forth her silver beames, and her bright hed 

Discovers to the world discomfited; 

Of the poore traveller that went astray^ 

With thousand blessings she is heried :* 

Such was the beautie and the shining ray, 

With which fayre Britomart gave light unto the day» 



280 THE. FAERIE QUEENE. 

And elre those six, which lately with her fought, 

Now were disarmd, and did themselves present 

Unto her vew, and comx^any unsought ; 

For they all seemed courteous and genfc, 

And alL sixe brethren, Borne of one parent. 

Which had them trajmd in all civilitee, 

And goodly taught to tilt and turnament; 

[Now were they liegnien to this ladie free. 

And her knights-service ought, to hold of her in fee. 

The first of them by name Gardante hight, 
A ioUy person, and of comely vew ; ^ 
. The second was Parlante, a bold knight ; 
And next to him locante did ensew; 
Basciante did himselfe most courteous shew; 
But fierce Bacchante seemd too fell and keene 5 
And yett in amies ISToctante greater grew: 
All were faire knights, and goodly well beseene ; 
But to faire Britomart they all but shadowes beene. 

For shea was full of amiable grace 

And manly terror mixed therewithaU ; 

That as the one stird up affections bace. 

So th' other did mens rash desires apall. 

And hold them backe that would in error faU : 

As hee that hath espide a vermeiU rose, 

To which sharp thornes and breres the way forstall. 

Dare not for dread his hardy hand expose. 

But, wishing it far off, his ydle wish doth lose. 

\VTiom when the lady saw so faire a wight. 

All ignorant of her contrary sex, 

(For shee her weend a fresh and lusty knight,) 

Shee greatly gan enamoured to wex, 

And with vaine thoughts her falsed fancy vex : 

Her fickle hart conceived hasty fyre. 

Like sparkes of ^e which fall in sclender flex. 

That shortly brent into extreme desyre, 

And ransackt aU her veines with passion entyre, 

Eftsoones shee grew to great impatience. 

And into termes of open outrage brust. 

That plaine discovered her incontinence ; 

Ne reckt shee who her meaning did mistrust; 

For she was given all to fleshly lust. 

And poured forth in ^ensuall delight, 

That all regard of shame she had discust, 

And meet respect of honor put to flight : ^ , 

So shamelesse beauty soone becomes a loathly sight. 



THE FAERIE QUEENS. 28l 

Faire ladies, tliat to love captive d arre. 

And chaste desires doe nourish in your mind. 

Let not her fault your sweete affections marre ; 

Ne blott the bounty of all womankind 

'Mongst thousands good, one wanton dame to find : 

Emongst the roses grow some wicked weeds : 

For this was not to love, but lust, inclind ; 

For love does alwaies bring forth bounteous deeds. 

And in each gentle hart desire of honor breeds. 

Nought so of love this looser dame did skill, 
Eut as a cole to kindle fleshly flame. 
Giving the bridle to her wanton will. 
And treading under foote her honest name : 
Such love* is hate, and such desire is shame. 
Still did she rove at her with crafty glaunce 
Of her false eies, that at her hart did ayme. 
And told her meaning, in her countenaunce ; 
But Britomart dissembled it with ignoraunce. 

Supper was shortly dight, and downe they satt; 

Where they were served with all sumptuous faro. 

Whiles fruitfull Ceres and Lyseus fatt 

Pourd out their plenty, without spight or spare ; 

Nought wanted there that dainty was and rare : . 

And aye the cups their bancks did overflow: 

And aye betweene the cups she did prepare 

Way to her love, and secret darts did throw; 

But Britomart would not such guilfull message know. 

So, when they slaked had the fervent heat 
Of appetite with meates of every sort. 
The lady did faire Britomart entreat 
Her to disarme, and with delightfull sport 
To loose her warlike limbs and strong effort : 
But when shee mote not thereunto be wonne, 
(For shee her sexe under that straunge purport 
Did use to hide, and plaine apparaunce shonne,) 
In playner wise to teU her grievaunce she begonne; 

And all attonce discovered her desire 
With sighes, and sobs, and plaints, and piteous griefe. 
The outward sparkes of her in-burning fire : ^ 
Which spent in vaine, at last she told her briefe. 
That, but if she did lend her short reliefe 
And doe her comfort, she mote algates dye- 
But the chaste damzell, that had never priefo 
Of such malengine and fine forgery e. 
Did easely beleeve her strong extremitye. 



J82 THE FJLEBIE QFEENB, 

Full easT Tras for her to have beliefe, 
Who by self- feeling of her feeble sexe. 
And by lonir triall of the inward CTiefe 
^^lierewith imperious love her hart did vexe, 
Could iudge Tvhat paines doe lovini; harts perplexe. 
"\Mio means no guile, be guiled soonest shall. 
And to i\iire semblaunce doth light faith annexe; 
The bird, that knowes not the false fowlers call. 
Into his hidden nett full easely doth fall. 

Forthy she would not in discourteise wise 

Scome the faire offer of good will profest; 

For great rebuke it is love io despise, 

Or rudely sdeigne a gentle harts request ; 

!But with faire countenaunce, as beseemed best. 

Her entertaynd; nath'lesse shee inly deenid 

Her love too light, to wooe a wandring guest 

AMiich she misconstruing, thereby esteemd 

That from like inward lire that outward smcke had steemi 

Therewith awhile she her flit fancy fedd, 

TiU she mote winne fit time for her desire ; 

But yet her wound still inward freshly bledd. 

And through her bones the false instilled fire 

Did spreil itselfe, and venime close inspire. 

Tho were the tables taken all away; 

And every knight, and every gentle squire, 

Gan choose his dame with hasciomani gay, 

With whom he ment to make his sport and courtly play. 

Some fell to daunce; some fell to hazardry; 
Some to make love: some to make meryment; 
As diverse witts to diverse things apply: 
And all the while faire Mdecasta bent 
Her crafty en gins to her close intent. 
By this tli' et email lampes. wherewith high lore 
Poth light the lower world, were halfe yspent. 
And the moist daughters of huge Atlas strove 
Into the ocean deepe to drive their weary drore. 

High time it seemed then for everie wight 

Them to betake unto their kindly rest : 

Eftesoones long waxen torches weren light 

ITnto their bowres to guyden ever\- guest : 

Tho, when the Britonesse saw all the rest 

Avoided quite, she gan herselfe despoile. 

And safe committ to her soft fethered nest ; 

"V^'her through long watch, and late dales weary toile. 

She Bouadly^elept, and carefuU thoughts did quite assoile. 



THE FAEEIE QTT^NE. 283 

Wow whcnas all the world in silence deepo 
Yshrowded was, and every mortall wight 
Was drowned in the depth of deadly slecpe; 
Faire Malecasla, whose engrieved spri^ht 
Could find no rest in such perplexed phght, 
Lightly arose out of her wearie bed. 
And, under the blacke vele of guilty night, 
Her with a scarlott mantle covered, 
That was with gold and ermines faire enveloped. 

Then panting soffce, and trembling every ioynt, 
Her fearefull feete towards the bowre she mov'd 
Where she for secret purpose did appoynt 
1*0 lodge the warlike maide, unwisely loov'd ; 
And, to her bed approching, first she proov'd 
Whether she slept or wakte : with her softe hand 
She softely felt if any member moov'd, 
And lent her wary eare to understand 
If any pulTe of breath or signe of sence shea fond. 

Which whenas none she fond, with easy shifte, 

For feare least her unwares she should abrayd, 

Th* embroder'd quilt she lightly ui) did lifte. 

And by her side herselfo she softly layd. 

Of every finest fingers touch affray d ; 

Ne any noise she made, ne worde she spake. 

But inly sighd. At last the royall mayd 

Out of her quiet slomber did awake. 

And chaungd her weary side the better ease to taket 

Where feeling one close couched by her side. 

She lightly lept out of her filed bedd. 

And to her weapon ran, in minde to gride 

The loathed leachour : but the dame, halfe dedd 

Through suddeine feare and ghastly drerihedd. 

Did shrieke alowd, that through the hous it rong, 

And the whole family therewith adredd 

Hashly out of their rouzed couches sprong, 

And to the troubled chamber all in armes did throng. 

And those sixe knightes, that ladies champions. 

And eke the Kedcrosse knight ran to the stownd, 

Halfe armd and halfe unarmd, with them attons; 

Where when confusedly they came, they fownd 

Their lady lying on the sencelesse grownd; 

On th* other side they saw the warlike mayd 

Al in her snow-white smocke, with locks unbownd, 

Threatning the point of her avenging blade ; 

That with so troublous terror they were all dismayd. 



284 THE*a?AEBIE QUEENB. 

About tlieir ladye first they flockt arownd ; 

Wliom having laid in comfortable coucli, 

Sliortly they reard out of her frosen swownd ; 

And afterwardes they gan with fowle reproch 

To stirre up strife, and troublous contecke brock: 

But, by ensample of the last dayes losse, 

INcne of them rashly durst to her approch, 

jSTe in so glorious spoile themselves embosse : 

Her succourd eke the champion of the bloody crosse. 

Eut one of those sixe knights, Gardante hight. 

Drew out a deadly bow and arrow keene, 

Which forth he sent with felonous despight 

And fell intent against the virgin sheene : 

The mortall Steele stayd not till it was scene 

To gore her side ; yet was the wound not deepe, 

But lightly rased her soft silken skin, 

That drops of purple blood thereout did weepe, ^ 

Y/hich did her lily smock with staines of vermeil steep. 

Wherewith enrag'd she fiercely at them flew, 

And with her flaming sword about her layd. 

That none of them foule mischiefe could eschew. 

But with her dreadfull strokes were all dismayd : 

Here, there, and every where, about her swayd 

Her wrathfull Steele, that none mote it abyde ; 

And eke the E^edcrosse knight gave her good ayd. 

Ay ioyning foot to foot, and syde to syde ; 

That in short space their foes they have quite terrifyde. 

Tho, whenas all were put to shamefull flight. 

The noble Britomartis her arayd. 

And her bright armes about her body dight ; 

For nothing would she lenger there be stayd. 

Where so loose life and so ungentle trade 

Was usd of knightes and ladies seeming gent : 

So, earely, ere the grosse earthes gryesy shade. 

Was all disperst out of the firmament, 

They tooke their steeds, aud forth upon their ioumey went. 



SHE FAEBIE QtTEENS. 286 



CAI^TO n. 

The Eedcrosse knight to Britomart 

Describeth Artegall : 
The wondrous myrrhour, hy which she 

In love with him did fall. 

Hebe liave I cause in men iust blame to find. 

That in their proper praise too partiall bee. 

And not indifferent to woman kind, 

To whom no share in armes and chevabee 

They doe impart, ne maken memoree 

Of their brare gestes and prowesse martiall : 

Scarse do they spare to one, or two or three, 

Rowme in their writtes ; yet the same writinp: small 

Does all their deedes deface, and dims their glories all. 

But by record of antique times I finde 

That wemen wont in warres to beare most sway, 

And to all great exploites themselves inclin'd. 

Of which they still the girlond bore away ; 

Till envious men, fearing their rules decay, 

Gan coyne streight lawes to curb their liberty : 

Yet, sith they warlike armes have laide away, 

They have exceld in artes and polhcy, 

That now we foolish men that prayse gin eke t* envy. 

Of warlike 'puisaaunce in ages spent, 

Be thou, faire Britomart, whose prayse I wryte ; 

But of all wisedom be thou precedent, 

O soveraine Queene whose prayse I would endyte, 

Endite I would as dewtie doth excyte ; 

But ah ! my rymes too rude and rugged arre. 

When in so high an object they doe lyte. 

And, striving fit to make, I fcare doe marre •: 

Thyselfe thy prayses tell, and make them know en farre. 

She, travelling with (Gruyon, by the way 

Of sondry thinges faire purpose gan to find, 

T'abridg their iourney long and lingring day: 

Mongst which it fell into that Fairies mind 

To aske this Briton Maid, what uncouth wind 

Brought her into those partes, and what inquest 

Made her dissemble her disguised kind : 

Faire lady she him seemd like lady drest, 

But fairest knight alive when armed was her brest. 



2S6 THE FABBIE QUEENB. 

Thereat, elic sigliing softly had no powre 

To speake awhile, nc ready answere make ; 

I3ut wilhliart-llirillini]: throbs and bitter stowr0^ 

As if she had a fever litt, did quake, 

And every daiulie lind)e wiih horrour shako; 

And ever and anone the rosy red 

]^'lasht through her fiice, as it had bcene a flako 

Of lightning through bright heren fulmined: 

At last, the passion past, sho thus him answered : 

"Faire sir, I let you weete, that from the ho^Tr0 

I taken was from nourses tender ixip, 

I have been trained uj) in warlike stowre. 

To tossen speare and shield, and to atfrap 

TJie warlike ryder to his most mishap ; 

Sithence 1 loathed have my life to lead, 

As ladies wont, in pleasures wanton lap, 

To finger the fine needle and nyee thread, 

Me lever were with point of foemans speare bo dead. 

** All my delight on deedes of armes is sett, 

To hunt out perilles and adventures hard, 

13y sea, by land, whereso they may be mett 

Onely for honour and for high regard, 

"Without respeet of riehessc or reward: 

¥or sueh intent into these partes I eame, 

AVithouten eompasse or withouten eard, 

Par fro my native soyle, that is by name 

The Greater Brytayne, here to seeke for praise and fluneb 

*' Fame blazed hath, that here in Faery Lond 

Doe many famous kuightes and ladies wonne, 

And many straunge adventures to bee fond, 

Of whieh great worth and worship may be wonnei 

"NVhieh to prove, I this voyage have begonne. 

Ihit mote I weet of you, right eourteous knight, 

Tydings of one that hath unto me donno 

Late foule dishonour and reproehfuU spight. 

The w hich I seek to "\\rcake, and Arthegall he hight.** 

The wordc gone out she backc againc would call. 

As her repenting so to have missayd, 

But that he. it uptaking ere the fall, 

Her shortly answered ; " Faire martiall niaydf 

Certes ye misavised beene t' upbrayd 

A gentle knight with so unknightly blame; 

For, weet ye well, of all that ever playd 

At tilt or tourney, or like warlike game, 

The noblo Ai'thcgali hath ever borae the uamaw 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 287 

"Forthy great wonder were it, if such sliamo 
Should ever enter in his bounteous thought, 
Or ever doe that mote deserven blame : 
The noble corage never weeneth ought 
That may unworthy of itaelfe be thought. 
Therefore, faire damzcll, be ye well aware. 
Least that too farre ye have your sorrow sought: 
You and your country both 1 wish welfare, 
And honour both ; for each of other worthy are.** 

The royall maid woxe inly wondrous glad. 

To heare her love so highly magnifyde; 

And ioyd that ever she affixed had 

Her hart on knight so goodly-glorifyde, 

However finely she it faind to hyde. 

The loving mother, that nine monethes did beare 

In tlie dearc closett of her painefuU syde 

Her tender babe, it seeing safe appeare, 

Dotli not so much reioyce as she reioyced theare. 

But to occasion him to further talke, 
To feed her humor with his pleasing style. 
Her list in s try full termes with him to balke. 
And thus reply de ; " However, sir, ye fyle 
Your courteous tonj^ue his prayses to compyle. 
It ill beseemes a knight of gentle sort. 
Such as ye have him boasted, to beguyle 
A simple maide, and worke so hainous tort, 
In shame of knighthood, as I largely can report. 

*" Let bee therefore my vengeaunce to disswade. 
And read, wliere I that Eay tour false may find.'* 
" Ah ! but if reason faire might you perswade 
To slake your wrath, and mollify your mind," 
Said he, " perhaps ye should it better find : 
For hardie thing it is, to weene by might 
That man to hard conditions to bind ; 
Or ever hope to match in equall fight, ' 
Whoso prowcsse paragone saw never living wight. 

" No soothlich is it easio for to read 
"Where now on earth, or how, he may be fownd ; 
For he ne wonneth in one ccrteine stead. 
But restlesso walketh all the world arovvnd, 
Ay doing thinges that to his fame rcdownd, 
Defending ladies cause and orplians right, 
Whcreso he heates-that any doth confownd 
Them comfortlesso through tyranny or might ; 
80 is his soyeraine honour raisde to hcvcns hight.^ 



288 THE FAERIR QUERNB. 

ITij^ foolinir ^t'onlos lior fooblo sonco luucli lylotosod. 

And sotlly suuok into lior inoltou hart: 

Jlart. tlmt is inly hurt, is groatlv oasod 

"With hopo ofthiniT that may alloirii:o his smart; 

Por pU^isinc Avordos aro hko to mairiok art. 

That dotJi tlio oharniod snako in slonibor hiy : 

8uoh scoroto oaso IVU gontU^ Hritomart, 

Yot hst the same otloroo with faiud j^aincsa^'; 

(iSo dischord oflo iu musick miikos tho SNVoeter hvy ;) 

And sayd : *' Sir knidit, those ydh> tormcs forboaro ; 

And, sith it is unoath to th\d his haunt. 

Toll mo somo markos by whioh ho may appoaro, 

It'ohaunoo I may him ouoountor paravauut; 

>'or ]HTdy ono shall othor slay, or daunt : [stodd, 

A^'hat shape, >Yhat shield, what arnios. what steed, wkai 

And whatso else his person most may vaunt P" 

All whieh the Ivederosso knij;lit to point ared, 

Ajid him iu everie part before her fashioued. 

Tot liim in ovcrio part before she knew*, 
However list her now her knowledge fayno, 
iSith him whylome in Britayno she did vow. 
To her revealed in a mirrhour playno : 
AVherivf did grow her lirst engrailed pa^iie, 
"NMioso root and stalko so bitter yet did taste. 
That, but the fruit more sweet nos did eontayno, 
Her wrotohed dayes in dolour she mote waste. 
And yield tho pra>' of love to lothsomo death at last. 

Py straungo oocasion she did him behold. 

And nuu'h more straunsioly gan to love his sights 

As it in bookos hath written boone of old. 

In l>oheubarth, that now South-AValos is hight. 

AVhat time King Eyenee raign'd and doiUed right, 

The irrtwt magitien Merlin had deviz'd, 

l\v his doope soienoo and hell-dreaded might 

A looking-glasso. right wondrously aguiz'd, [nis'd. 

AVhose vertues through the wydo worlde soono were solem- 

It vertno had to show in porfoet sight 

AMuitovor thing was in the world eontaynd, 

IVtwixt the lowest earth and hevons hight, 

So that it to the looker apportaynd : 

"Whatever foe had wrougnt, or frond had faynd. 

Therein diseoverod was, no ought mote pas, 

Ke ought in soorot from the same remayud ; 

Forthy it round and hollow shaped was, 

like to the world it^eiic, and sceind a world of glad. 



THE FAEBIE QUESHJ^. 2^ 

Who wondom not;, that readet «o wondcrotw \roriaj? 

JJiit who doos wonder, that ha« red the towro 

Wlicrcia th' Ac^yptuiri Phao lorij? did lurko 

From all rnorw vr;\v, tliat none mi^ht her dwcouro, 

Yet nfio rnit^ht all man vow out ot her bciwreP 

Great l.'LolorrL'/Jo it for his Lerrians sake 

Ybiiildcd all of (<lasHO, by ma;^icke poinre, 

And also it imprc^^ruiblo did mako^ 

Yet, when hiji lovo was false, ho with a pcazo it brake. 

8uch was tlio (<lassy globe that Merlin made. 
And (?ave unto Kin^ Ryencc for his ^ard, 
'J'liat never foes his kingdorne iniglit invade, 
Jhit he it knew at Iiome before lie bard 
Tydings thereof, and so tli^Tn still debar*d: 
It was a famous present for a prinee. 
And worthy worke of infinite reward, 
'J'hat treasons could bewray, and foes convince: 
Happy this rcalrne, liad it rernayocd ever »iiicel 

One day it fortuned fayre Britoniart 
Into her fathers eloset U) repayrc ; 
For nothing he from her reservVl apart, 
I3eing his onelv daughter and his.ha^vre; 
Where when she haa espyde that mirrhour fayre, 
Herselfe awhile therein slie vewd in value : 
Tho, lier avizing of the vertues rare 
Which thereof spoken were, she gan againe 
Her to bethiako of that mote to Ec^rselie pertaine* 

But as it falleth, in the gentlest harts 

Imperious Love hath highest set hi« throne. 

And tyrannizeth in tlie bitter smarts 

Of them, that to him buxome are and prone: 

Ho thought this mayd^as maydeus use to done) 

Whom fortune for her husband would allot ; 

Not that she lusted after any one, 

For she was j^ure from blame of sinfuU blott; 

Yet wist her life at last must lincke in that same knot* 

EftsooncB there was presented to her eye 
A comely knight, all arrn'd in complete wizc, 
Through whose bright ventayle lifted ux> on hyo 
His manly face, that did his foes agrizc 
And frends to tx;rmcs of gentle truce entizc, 
l^jolit foorlh, as Phojbus face out of the cast 
UetvCixt two shady mountaynes doth arize: 
Portly his person was, and much incrcasfc 
Through his hcroicke grace and honorable gcst. 



290 THE FAEFvIE QUEENE. 

His crest was covered witli a coucliant liownd. 

And all liis armour seemd of antique mould,' 

But wondrous massy and assured sownd, 

And round about yfretted all with gold, 

In wliicii there written was, with cyphers old, 

AcJiilles armes which Arthegall did win: 

And. on his shield enveloped sevenfold 

He bore a crowned httle ermilin, 

That deckt the azure field with her fayre pouldred skin. 

The damzell well did vew his personage. 

And liked well ; ne further fastned not, 

But went her way ; ne her unguilty age 

Hid weene, unwares, that her unlucky lot 

Lay hidden in the bottome of the pot : 

Of hurt unwist most daunger doth redound : 

But the false archer which that arrow shot 

So slyly that she did not feele the wound, 

Did smyle full smoothly at her weetlesse wofuU stound. 

Thenceforth the fether in her lofty crest. 

Huffed of love, gan lowly to availe ; 

And her prowd portaunce and her princely gest, 

With which she earst tryiimphed, now did quaile : 

Sad, solemne, sowre, and full of fancies fraile. 

She woxe ; yet wist she nether how, nor why ; 

She wist not, silly mayd, what she did aile, 

Yet wist she was not well at ease perdy ; 

Yet thought it was not love, but some melancholy. 

So soone as Night had with her pallid hew 

Defaste the beautie of the shyning skye. 

And refte from men the worldes desired vew. 

She with her nourse adowne to sleepe did lye ; 

But sleepe full far away from her did fly : 

Instead thereof sad sighes and sorrowes deepe 

Kept watch and ward about her warily ; 

That nought she did but wayle, and often steepe ^ 

Her dainty couch with teares which closely she did weep©. 

And if that any drop of slombring rest 

Hid chaunce to still into her weary spright, 

When feeble nature felt herselfe opprest, 

Streightway with dreames, and with fantastick sight 

Of dreadfull things, the same was put to flight ; 

That oft out of her bed she did astart. 

As one with vew of ghastly feends affright : 

Tho gan she to renew her former smart, 

4iid thinke of that fayre visage written in her hart. 



THE FAESIE QTJEENE. 291 

Oae niglit, wlien slie was tost witli sucli unrest, 

Her aged nourse, wliose name was Glance liight. 

Feeling her leape out of her loathed nest, 

Betwixt her feeble armes her quickly keight, 

And downe againe in her warme bed her digm;: 

" Ah ! my deare daughter, ah ! my dearest dread. 

What uncouth fit," sayd she, " what'evill plight 

Hath thee opprest, and with sad drearyhead * 

Chaunged thy lively cheare, and living made thee dead ? 

" For not of nought these suddein ghastly feares 
All night afflict thy naturall repose : 
And all the day, wlienas thine equall peares 
Their fit disports with faire delight doe chose, 
Thou in dull corners doest thyself inclose ; 
Ne tastes t princes pleasures, ne doest spred 
Abroad thy fresh youths fayrest Howre, but lose 
Both leafe and fruite, both too untimely shed. 
As one in wilfuU bale for ever buried. 



" The time that mortall men their weary cares 

Do lay away, and all wilde beastes do rest. 

And every river eke his course forbeares. 

Then doth this wicked evill thee infest, 

And rive with thousand throbs thy thrilled brest : 

Like an huge Aetn' of deepe engulfed gryefe. 

Sorrow is heaped in thy hollow chest, 

"Whence foorth it breakes in sighes and anguish ryfe, 

As smoke and sulphure mingled with confused stryfe. 

" Ay me ! how much I feare least love it bee ! 

But if that love it be, as sure I read 

By knowen signes and passions which I see. 

Be it worthy of thy race and royall sead, 

Then I avow, by this most sacred head 

Of my dear foster childe, to ease thy griefe 

And win thy will : therefore away idoe dread : 

l>'or death nor daunger from thy dew reliefs 

Shall me debarre : tell me, therefore, my liefest liefe!** 

3o having sayd, her twixt her armes twaine 

Shee streightly straynd, and colled tenderly; 

And every trembling ioynt and every vaine 

Shee softly felt, and rubbed busily, 

To doe the frosen cold away to fly; 

And her faire deawy eies with kisses deare 

Shee ofte did bathe, and ofte againe did dry: 

And ever her importUnd not to feare 

To let the secret of her hart to her appeare. 



292 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

The damzell pauzd ; and then thus fearfully ; 
" Ah ! nurse, what needeth thee to eke my payne ? 
Is not enough that I alone doe dye, 
But it must doubled bee with death of twaine P 
For nought for me but death there doth remame !'* 
" O daughter deare," said she, *' despeire no whit ; 
For never sore but might a salve obtaine : 
GPhat blinded god, which hath ye blindly smit, 
Another arrow hath your lovers hart to hit." 

"Eut mine is not,'* quoth she, "Jike other wownd^ 

Por which no reason can finde remedy." 

*'Was never such, but mote the like be fownd," 

Said she ; " and though no reason may apply 

Salve to your sore, yet love can higher stye 

Then reasons reach, and oft hath wonders donne.*' 

" But neither god of love nor god of skye 

Can doe," said she, " that which cannot be donne." 

" Things oft impossible," quoth she, *' seeme ere bcgonne.' 

" These idle wordes," said she, " doe nought aswage 

My stubborne smart, but more annoiaunce breed : 

For no, no usuall fire, no usuall rage 

Yt is, O nourse, which on my life doth feed. 

And sucks the blood which from m^^ hart doth bleed. 

But since thy faithfull zele lets me not hyde 

My crime, (if crime it be,) I will it reed. 

IN^or prince nor pere it is, whose love hath gryde 

My feeble brest of late, and launched this wound wyd©. 

" Nor man it is, nor other living wight ; 
For then some hope I might unto me draw ; 
But th' only shade and semblant of a knight. 
Whose shape or person yet I never saw, 
Hath mef subiected to loves cruell law : 
The same one day, as me misfortune led, 
I in my fathers wondrous mirrhour saw, 
And, pleased with that seeming goodlyhed, 
Unwares the hidden hooke with baite I swallowed : 

** Sithens it hath infixed faster hold. 

Within my bleeding bowells, and so sore 

Now ranckletli in this same fraile fleshly mould. 

That all mine entrailes flow with poisnous gore', • 

And th' ulcer groweth daily more and more ; 

JSe can my ronning sore finde remedee. 

Other than my hard fortune to deplore. 

And languish as the leafe fain from the tree. 

Till death make one end of my daies and miseree !** 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 293 

" Dan gilt er/' said slie, " wliat need ye l7e divsmayd? 

Or why make ye such monster of your minde ? 

Of much more uncouth thing I was aiFrayd : 

Of filthy hist, contrary unto kinde : 

But this affection nothing straunge I finde ; 

For who with reason can you aye reprove 

To love the semblaunt pleasing most your minde, 

And yield your heart whence ye cannot remove P 

No guilt in you, but in the tyranny of love. 

" Not so th' Arabian Myrrhe did sett her mynd ; 

Nor so did Biblis spend her pining hart ; 

But lov'd their native flesh against al kynd. 

And to their purpose used wicked art : 

Yet playd Pasiphae a more monstrous part, 

That lov'd a bull, and learnd a beast to bee : 

Such shamefull lustes who loaths not, which depart 

From course of nature and of modestee? 

Swete love such lewdnes bands from his faire companee, 

"But thine, my deare, (welfare thy heart, my deare !) 

Though straunge beginning had, yet fixed is 

On one that worthy may perhaps appeare ; 

And certes seemes bestowed not amis : 

loy thereof have thou and eternall blis !'* 

With that, upleaning on her elbow weake. 

Her alablaster brest she soft did kis. 

Which all -that while shee felt to pant and quake. 

As it an earth-quake were : at last she thus bespako ; 

" Beldame, your words doe worke me litle ease ; 

For though my love be not so lewdly bent 

As those ye blame, yet may it nought appease 

My raging smart, ne ought my flame relent. 

But rather doth my helpelesse griefe augment. 

For they, however shamefull and unkinde, 

Yet did possesse their horrible intent : 

Short end of sorrowes they therby did finde; 

So was their fortune good, though wicked were their mindec 

" But wicked fortune mine, though minde be good, 
Can have no end nor hope of my desire, 
But feed on shadowes whiles I die for food. 
And like a shadow wexe, whiles with entire 
Affection I doe languish and expire. 
I, fonder then Cephisus foolish chyld. 
Who, having vewed in a fountaine shere 
His face, was with the love thereof beguyld ; 
I, fonder, love a shade, the body far exyld.*' 



294 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

. " J^onglit lite/* qnotli shee •, " for tliat same wretched boy 

TV as of liimselfe the yclle paramoure, 

]3oth love and lover, without hope of ioy ; 

3^ or which he faded to a watry flowre. 

Eut better fortune thme, and better howre, 

Which lev's fc the shadow of a warlike knight ; 

Is o shadow but a body hath in powre : 

That body, wheresoever that it light, 

May learned be by cyphers^ or by magicke might. 

" But if thou may with reason yet represse 
The growing evill, ere it strength have gott. 
And thee abandond wholy do possesse ; 
Against it strongly strive, and yield thee nott 
Til thou in open jQelde adowne be smott : 
But if the passion mayster thy fraile might. 
So that needs love or death must be thy lott, 
Then I avow to thee, by wrong or right 
To compas thy desire, and find that loved knight.'* 

Her chearefull words much cheard the feeble spright 

Of the sicke virgin, that her downe she layd 

1 n her warme bed to sleepe, if that she might ; 

And the old- woman carefully displayd 

The clothes about her round with busy ayd ; 

So that at last a litle creeping sleepe 

Surprizd her sence : shee, therewith well apayd, 

The dronken lamp down in the oyl did steepe, 

And sett her by to watch, and sett her by to weepe. 

• 
Earel^^ the morrow next, before that Day 
His ioyous face did to the world revele, 
They iDoth uprose and tooke their ready way 
Unto the church, their praiers to appele, 
With great devotion, and with litle zele : 
For the faire damzell from the holy herse 
Her love-si eke hart to other thoughts did steale: 
And that old dame said many an idle verse, 
Out of her daughters hart fond fancies to reverse. 

Betourned home, the royall infant fell 

Into her former fitt ; for why ? no powre 

JN^or guidaunce of herselfe in her did dwell. 

But til' aged nourse, her calling to her bowre, 

Had gathered rew, and savine, and the flowre 

Of camphora, and calamint, and dill; 

All which she in a earthen pot did poure, 

And to the brim with coltwood did it fill, 

And many drops of milk and blood through it did spilL 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 295 

Tlien, takin": tlirise three heares from off her head, 

Them trebly breaded in a threefold lace, 

And round about tlie pots mouth bound the thread ; 

And, after havin<? whimpered a space 

Certein sad words with hollow voice and bace, 

Shoe to the virgin sayd, thrise sayd she itt ; 

** Come, daughter, come ; come, spit upon my face, 

Spitt thrise upon me, thrise upon me spitt ; 

Til' uneven nomber for this busines is most fitt." 

That sayd, her rownd about she from her turnd. 

She turned her contrary to the sunne ; 

Thrise she her turnd contrary^ and returnd 

All contrary ; for she the right did shunne ; 

And ever what she did was streight undonne. 

So thought she to undoe her daughter's love : 

But love, that is in gentle brest begonne, 

IS'o ydle charmes so lightly may remove ; 

That well can witness e, who by try all it does prove. 

'Ne ought it mote the noble mayd avayle, 

Ne slake the fury of her cruell flame, 

But that shee still did waste, and still did wayle, 

That, through long languour and hart-burning brame. 

She shortly like a pyned ghost became 

Which long hath waited by the Stygian strond ; 

That when old Glance saw, for feare least blame 

Of her miscarriage should in her be fond. 

She wist not how t' amend, nor how it to withstond. 



CANTO III. 

Merlin bewrayes to Britomart 

The state of Arthegall : 
And shevves the famous progeny. 

Which from them springen shall. 

Most sacred fyre, that burnest mightily 

In living brests, ykindled first above 

Emongst th' eternall spheres and lamping sky, 

And thence pourd into men, which men call Love; 

Not that same, which doth base affections move 

In brutish mindes, and filthy lust inflame ; 

But that sweete fit that doth true beautie love, 

And choseth Vertue for his dearest dame. 

Whence spring all noble deedes and never-dying fame : 



296 THE FAEEIE QXTEENE. 

"Well did Antiquity a god tliee deeme, 

That over mortall mindes hast so great miglit. 

To order them as best to thee doth seeme. 

And all their actions to direct aright : 

The fatall purpose of divine foresight 

Thou doest effect in destined descents, 

Through deepe impression of thy secret might, 

And stirredst up th' heroes high intents, 

Which the late world admyres for wondrous monimenta. 

But thy dredd dartes in none doe triumph more, 

"Ne braver proofe in any of thy powre 

Shewd'st thou, then in this royall maid of yore. 

Making her seeke an unknowne paramoure, 

[From the worlds end, through many a bitter stowre ; 

i'rom whose two loynes thou afterwardes did rayse 

Most famous fruites of matrimoniall bowre, 

Which through the earth have spredd their living prayse> 

That fame in tromp of gold eternally display es. 

jBegin then, O my dearest sacred dame. 
Daughter of Phoebus and of Memorye, 
That doest ennoble with immortall name 
The warlike worthies, from antiguitye. 
In thy great volume of eternitye : 
Begin, O Clio, and recount from hence 
My glorious soveraines goodly Auncestrye, 
Till that by dew degrees, and long pretense, 
Thou have it lastly brought unto her excellence. 

Full many wayes within her troubled mind 

Old Glance cast to cure this ladies griefe ; 

Full many wayes she sought but none could f >•], ^ 

JSTor herbes, nor charmes, nor counsel that is c.iief© 

And choisest med'cine for sick harts reliefe : 

Forthy great care she tooke, and greater feare. 

Least that it should her turne to fowle repriefe 

And sore reproch, whenso her father deare 

Should of his dearest daughters hard misfortune heare. 

At last she her avisde, that he which made 

That mirrhour, w^herein the sicke damosell 

So straungely vewed lier straunge lovers shade. 

To weet, the learned Merlin, well could tell 

Under what coast of heaven the man did dwell. 

And by what means his love might best be wrought : 

For, though beyond the Africk Ismael, 

Or th' Indian Peru he were, she thought 

Him forth through infinite endeavour to have sought. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. .297 

Fortliwitb. themselves disguising both in strannge 

And base attyre, that none might them bewray, 

To Maridunnm, that is now by chaunge 

Of name Cayr-Merdin cald, they tooke their way : • 

There the wise Merhn whylome wont (they say) 

To make his wonne, low underneath the ground, 

In a deepe delve, farre from the vew of day. 

That of no living wight he mote be found, 

Whenso he counseld with his sprights encompast round. 

And, if thou ever happen that same way 

To traveill, go to see that dreadfull place : 

It is an hideous hollow cave (they say) 

Under a rock that lyes a little space 

From the swift Barry, tombling down apace 

Emongst the woody hilles of Dyneuowre : 

But dare thou not, I charge, in any cace 

To enter into that same balefull bowre. 

For feare the cruell feendes should thee unwares devowr.^ t 

But standing high aloft low lay thine eare. 
And there such ghastly noyse of yron chaines 
And brasen caudrons thou shalt rombling heare. 
Which thousand sprights with long enduring painea 
Doe tosse, that it will stonn thy feeble braines ; 
And oftentimes great grones, and grievous stownds. 
When too huge toile and labour them constraines ; 
And oftentimes loud strokes and ringing sowndes 
From under that deepe rock most horribly rebowndes. 

The cause, some say, is this : a litle whyle 

Before that Merlin dyde, he did intend 

A brasen wall in compas to compyle 

About Cairmardin, and did it commend 

Unto these sprights to bring to perfect end: 

During which worke the Lady of the Lake, 

Whom long he lov'd, for him in hast did send ; 

Who, thereby forst his workemen to forsake. 

Them bownd, till his retourne, their labour not to slake. 

In the mean time through that false ladies traine 

He was surprisd, and buried under beare, 

Ne ever to his worke returnd againe : 

JS'atli'lesse those feends may not their worke forbeare, 

So greatly his commandemont they feare, 

But there doe toyle and traveile day and night, 

Untill that brasen wall they up doe reare : 

For Merlin had in magick more insight 

Then ever him before or after living wight : 



298 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

For he by wordes could call out of the sky 

Both sunne and mooDc, and make them him obay; 

The land to sea, and sea to maineland dry, 

And darksom night he eke could turne to day; 

Hu^e hostes of men he could alone dismay, 

And hostes of men of meanest thinges could frame 

Whenso him list his enimies to fray: 

That to this day, for terror of his fame, 

The feendes do quake when any him to them does name. 

And, sooth, men say that he was not tlie sonna 

Of mortall syre or other living wight, 

But wondrously begotten, and begonne 

By false illusion of a guilefull spright 

On a faire lady Nonne, that whilome hight 

Matilda, daughter to Pubidius, 

Who was the lord of Marthtraval by right/ 

And coosen unto king Ambrosius ; 

Whence he indued was with skill so marveilous. 

They, here arriving, staid awhile without, 

Ke durst adventure rashly in to wend, 

But of their first intent gan make new dout 

For dread of daunger, which it might portend: 

Untill the hardy mayd (with Love to frend) 

First entering, the dreadfull Mage there fownd 

Deepe busied 'bout worke of wondrous end. 

And writing straunge characters in the grownd, ^ 

With which the stubborne feendes he to his service bownd. 

He nought was moved at their entraunce bold, 
For of their comming well he wist afore : 
Yet list them bid their businesse to unfold. 
As if ought in this world in secrete store 
Were from him hidden, or unknowne of yore. 
Then Glance thus ; *' Let not it thee offend, 
That we thus rashly through thy darksom dore 
TJnwares have prest ; for either fatall end^ 
Or other mightie cause, us two did hether send." 

He bad tell on • and then she thus began ; 

'* Now have three moones vrith borrowd brothers light 

Thrise shined faire, and thrise seemd dim and w^an, 

Sith a sore evill, which this virgin bright 

Tormenteth and doth plonge in doleiull plight. 

First rooting tooke ; but what thing it mote bee. 

Or whence it sprong, I cannot read aright : 

But this I read, that, but if remedee 

Thou her afford, full shortly I her dead shall see,"* 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. ' 2dd 

Tlierfiwitli tb.* enchaunter softly gan to smylo 

At her smooth speeches, Aveeting inly well 

That she to him dissembled womanish guyle. 

And to her said ; " Beldame, by that ye tell 

More neede of leach-crafte hath your Damozell, 

Then of my skill : who helpe may have elsewhere. 

In vaine seekes wonders out of magick spell." 

Th' old woman wox half blanck those wordes to heare : 

And yet was loth to let her purpose plaine appeare ; 

And to him said : " Yf any leaches skill. 

Or other learned meanes, could have redrest 

This my deare daughters deepe-engrafFed ill, 

Certes I should be loth thee to molest : 

But this sad evill, which doth her infest, 

Doth course of naturall cause farre exceed. 

And housed is within her hollow brest, 

That either seemes some cursed witches deed. 

Or evil spright, that in her doth such torment breed.*' 

The wisard could no lender beare her bord, ' 

But, bursting forth in laughter, to her sa3^d; 

** Glauce, what needes this colourable word 

To cloke the cause that hath itselfe bewrayd ? 

Ne ye, fayre Britomartis, thus arayd, 

More hidden are then sunne in cloudy vele ; 

"Whom thy good fortune, having fate obayd. 

Hath hether brought for succour to appele ; 

The which the powres to thee are pleased to revele/' 

The doubtfull mayd, seeing herselfe descryde. 

Was all abasht, and her pure yvory 

Into a cleare carnation suddeine dyde ; 

As fayre Aurora, rysing hastily, 

Poth by her blushing tell that she did lyo 

All night in old Tithonus frozen bed, 

Whereof she seemes ashamed inwardly: 

But her old nourse was nought dishartened. 

But vauntage made of that which Merlin had ared ; 

And sayd ; " Sith then thou knowest all our griefe, 
(For what doest not thou knowe?) of grace 1 pray, 
Pitty our playnt, and yield us meet reliefe !'* 
With that the prophet still awhile did stny. 
And then his spirite thus gan foorth display; 
"Most noble virgin, that by fatall lore 
Hast learn'd to love, let no whit tbee dismay 
The hard beginne that mcetes thee in the dore, 
And with sharpe fits thy tender hart oppresseth sore: 



800 THE FAERIE QtTEENB. 

• 
" For so must all things excellent begin ; 
And eke enrooted deepe must be that tree, 
Whose big embodied braunclies shall not lin 
Till they to hevens hight forth stretched bee. 
For from thy -vvombe a famous progenee 
Shall spring out of the auncient Trojan blood. 
Which shall revive the sleeping memoree 
Of those same antique peres, the heveiis brood, 
Which Greeke and Asian rivers stayned with their blood. 

" E-enowmed kings, and sacred emperours, 
Thy fruitfull offsioring, shall from thee descend ; 
Brave captaines, and most mighty warriours, 
That shall their conquests through all lands extend. 
And their decayed kingdomes shall amend : 
The feeble Britons, broken with long warre. 
They shall upreare, and mightily defend 
Against their forren foe that commes from farre, 
Till universall peace compound all civiU iarre. 

'^* It was not, Britomart, thy wandring eye 
Glauncing unwares in charmed looking-glas. 
But the streight course of hevenly destiny. 
Led with Eternall Providence, that has 
Guyded thy glaunce, to bring his wiU to pas : 
Ne is thy fate, ne is thy fortune iU, 
To love the prowest knight that ever was : 
Therefore submit thy wayes unto his will. 
And doe, by aU dew meanes, thy destiny fulfiU." 

" But read," said Glauce, " thou magitian, 
W^hat meanes shall she out-seeke, or what waies take? 
How shall she know, how shall she finde the man ? 
Or what needes her to toyle, sith fates can make 
Way for themselves their purpose to pertake ?'* 
Then Merlin thus ; " Indeede the fates are firme. 
And may not shrinek, though all the world do shake : 
Yet ought mens good endevours them confirme, 
And guj^de the heavenly causes to their constant terme. 

" The man, whom heavens have ordaynd to bee 
The spouse of Britomart, is ArthegaU: 
He wonneth in the land of Fayeree, 
Yet is no Fary borne, ne sib at all 
To Elfes, but sprong of seed terrestriall, 
And ^^diylome by false Faries stolen away, 
Whyles yet in infant cradle he did crall; 
Ne other to himselfe is knowne this day, 
But that he by an Elfo was gotten of a Fay: 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 301 

" But sootli lie is tlie sonne of G-orloi's, 

And brother unto Cador, Cornisk king; 

And for his warlike feates renowmed is. 

From where the day out of the sea doth spring, 

Untill the closure of the evening : 

From thence him, firmely bound with faithfull band, 

To this his native soyle thou back shalt bring, 

Strongly to ayde his countrey to w^ithstand 

The powre of forreine paynims which invade thy land. 

" Great ayd thereto his mighty puissaunce 

And dreaded name shall give in that sad day; 

Where also proofe of thy prow valiaunce 

Thou then shalt make, t' increase thy lover's pray: 

Long time ye both in armes shall beare great sway, 

Till thy wombes burden thee from them do call, 

And his last fate him from thee take away; 

Too rathe cut off by practise criminall 

Of secrete foes, that him shall make in mischiefe fall. 

"With thee yet shall he leave, for memory 

Of his late puissaunce, his ymage dead. 

That living liim in all activity 

To thee shall represent : he, from the head 

Of his coosen Constantius, without dread 

Shall take the crowne that was his fathers right, 

And therewith crowne himselfe in th* others stead: 

Then shall he issew forth with dreadfull might 

Against his Saxon foes in bloody field to fight. 

" Like as a lyon that in drowsie cave 

Hath long time slept, himselfe so shall he shake ; 

And, comming forth, shall sprfed his banner brave 

Over the troubled south, that it shall make 

The warhke Mertians for feare to quake: 

Thrise shall he fight with them, and twise shall win. ; 

But the third time shall fayre accordaunce make : 

And, if he then with victorie can lin; 

He shall his dayes with peace bring to his earthly m. 

" His Sonne, hight Vortipore, shall him succeedo 
In kingdome, but not in felicitjr: 
Yet shall he long time warre with happy speed 
And with great honour many batteills try; 
But at the last to th' importunity 
Of fro ward fortune shall be forst to yield: 
But his sonne Malgo shall full mightily 
Avenge his fathers losse with speare and shield, 
And his i)roud foes dificomfit in victorious field. 
14 



802 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

" Beliold the man ! and tell me, Britomart, 
If ay more goodly creature thou didst see ? 
How like a gyaunt in each manly part 
Beares he himselfe with portly raaiestee, 
That one of th' old heroes seemes to bee ! 
He the six islands, comprovinciall ^ 
In auncient times unto great Britainee, 
ShaJ to the same reduce, and to him call 
Their sondry kings to do their homage sever^ill. 

" All which his sonne Careticus awhile 

Shall well defend, and Saxons powre suppresse ; 

Untill a straunger king, from unknowne soyle 

Arriving, him with multitude oppresse ; 

Great Gormond, havincr with huge mightinesse 

Ireland subdewd, and therein fixt his throne. 

Like a swift otter, fell through emptinesse. 

Shall overswim the sea with many one 

Of his JS'orveyses, to assist the Britons fone. 

*' He in his furie all shall over-ronne. 

And holy church with faithlesse handes defaco. 

That thy sad people, utterly fordonne, 

Shall to the utmost mountaines fly apace: 

Was never so great waste in any place. 

Nor so fowle outrage doen by living men; 

For all thy citties they shall sacke and race. 

And the greene grasse that groweth they shall bren. 

And even the wilde beast shall dy in starved den. 

"Wliiles thus thy Britons doe in languour pine. 

Proud Etheldred shall from the north arise. 

Serving th' ambitious will of Augustine, 

And, passing Dee, with hardy enterprise 

Shall backe repulse the valiaunt Brockwell twise, 

And Bangor with massacred martyrs fill ; 

But the third time shall rew his fool-hardise : 

Por Cadwan, pittying his peoples ill, 

Shall stoutly him defeat, and thousand Saxons kill. 

"But, after him, Cadwallin mightily 

On his sonne Edwin all those wrongs shall wreake ; 

"Ne shall availe the wicked sorcery 

Of false Pellite his purposes to breake. 

But him shall slay, and on a gallowes bleak 

Shall give th* enchaunter his unhappy hire: 

Then shall the Britons, late dismayd and weake. 

Prom their long vassallage gin to respire. 

And on their Paynim foes avenge their rancldcd ire. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 303 

*' TTe sball lie yet Lis •wrath mitigate, 
Till both the sonnes of Edwin he have slayne, 
OflHcke and Osricke, twinnes unfortunate, 
Both slaine in battaiie upon Layburne playne. 
Together with the King of Louthiane, 
Hight Adin, and the King of Orkeny, 
• Both ioynt partakers of their fatall payne : 
But Peiida, fearefuU of hke desteney, 
Shall yield himselfe his liegeman, and sweare fealty: 

" Him shall he make his fatall instrument 
T* afflict the other Saxons unsubdewd; 
He marching forth with fury insolent 
Against the good King Oswald, who indewd 
With heavenly powre, and by angels rcskewd. 
All holding crosses in their hands on hye, 
Shall him defeate withouten blood imbrewd: 
Of which that field for endlesse memory 
Shall Hevenfield be cald to all posterity. 

** Whereat Cadwallin wroth shall forth issew. 
And an huge boste in JN'orthumber lead, 
With whicii he godly Oswald shall subdew. 
And crowne with martiredome his sacred head: 
Whose brother Oswm, daunted with like dread. 
With price of silver shall his kingdome buy; 
And Penda, seeking him adowne to tread. 
Shall tread adowne, and doe liim fowly dye; 
But shall with gifts his lord Cadwallin pacify. 

" Then shall Cadwallin die ; and then the raine 

Of Britons eke with him attonce shall dye ; 

Ne shall the good Cadwallader, with paine 

Or powre, be hable it to remedy, 

When the full time, prefixt by destiny. 

Shall be expird of Britons regiment: 

For heven itselfe shall their successe envy, 

And them with plagues and murrins pestilent 

Consume, till all their warhke puissaunce be spent* 

** Yet after all these sorrowes, and huge hills 
Of dying people, during eight yeares space, 
Cadwallader, not yielding to his ills, 
From Armoricke, where long in wretched cace 
He liv'd, retourning to his nativ^e place, 
Shal be my vision staide from his intent : 
For th' heavens have decreed to displace 
The Britons for their sinnes dew punishment. 
And to the Saxons over-give their government. 



804 THE FAEEIE QITEENE. 

" Then woe, and woe, and everlasting woe, 

1^3 to the Briton babe that shal be borne, 

To live in thraldom of his fathers foe ! 

Late kin^, now captive ; late lord, now forlorne ; 

The worlds reproch ; the cruell victors scorne; 

Banisht from princely bowre to wasteful wood! 

O ! who shall helpe me to lament and mourne • 

The royall seed, the antique Trogan blood, 

"Whose empire leDger here then ever an}^ stood !" 

The damzell was full deepe empassioned 

Both for his griefe, and for her peoples sake. 

Whose future woes so plain e he fashioned ; 

And sighing sore, at length him thus bespake; 

*' Ah! but will hevens fury never slake, 

Nor vengeaunce huge relent itselfe at last ? 

Will not long misery late mercy make, 

But shall their name for ever be defaste, 

And quite from off the earth their memory be raste?" 

"'Nay^ but the terme," said he, "is limited, 

That in this thraldomc Britons shall abide ; 

And the iust revolution measured 

That they as straungers shall be notifide : 

For twise fowre hundreth yeares shal be supplide, 

Ere they to former rule restor'd shal bee, 

And their importune fates all satisfide ; 

Yet, during this their most obscuritee, [may see. 

Their beames shall ofte breake forth, that men them faire 

" For Ehqdoricke, whose surname shal be Great, 

Shall of himselfe a brave ensample shew, 

That Saxon kings his friendship shall intreat; 

And Howell Dha shall goodly well indew 

The salvao:e minds with skill of iust and trew: 

Then Griffyth Conan also shall uprieare 

His dreaded head, and the old sparkes renew 

Of native cora^e, that his foes shall feare 

Least back againe the kingdom he from them should bonro, 

""Ne shall the Saxons selves all peaceably 

Enioy the crowne, which they from Britons wonne 

First ill, and after ruled wickedly: 

For, ere two hundred yeares be full outronne 

Q here shall a raven, far from rising sunne. 

With his wide wings upon them fiercely fly. 

And bid his faithlesse chickens overronne 

The fruitfuil plaines, and with fell cruelty 

In their avenge tread downe the victors surquedry. 



TFJ« FAEEIE QXJEENB. 305 

"Yet *hall a tliird both these and thine subdew: 
There shall a lion from the sea-bord wood 
OrNeustria come roring, with a crew 
Of hungry whelpes, his battailous bold brood, 
Whose clawes were newly dipt in cruddy blood, 
That from the Daniske Tyrants head shall rend 
Th* usurped crowns, as if that he were wood, 
And the spoile of the countrey conquered 
Amongst his young ones shall divide with bountyhed. 

" Tho, when the terme is full accomplishid, 

There shall a sparke of fire, which hath longwhile 

Bene in his ashes raked up and hid, 

Bee freshly kindled in the fruitfull ile 

Of Mona, where it lurked in exile; 

Which shall breake forth into bright burning flame. 

And Veach into the house that beares the stile 

Of royall maiesty and soveraine name : 

So shall the Briton blood their crowne againe reclaime. 

" Thenceforth eternall imion shall be made 

Between^ the nations different afore. 

And sacred peace shall lovingly persuade 

The warlike minds to learne her goodly lore. 

And civile armes to exercise no more : 

Then shall a royall virgin raine, which shall 

Stretch her white rod over the Belgicke shore. 

And the great castle smite so sore withall. 

That it shall make him shake, and shortly learn to fall : 

" But yet the end is not." — There Merlin stayd. 

As overcomen of the spirites x^owre, 

Or other ghastly spectacle dismayd, 

That secretly he saw, yet note discourse: 

Which suddein fitt and halfe extatick stoure 

When the two fearefull wemen saw, they grew 

Greatly confused in behaveoure: 

At last, the fury past, to former hew 

He turnd againe, and chearfull looks as earst did she^r. 

Then, when themselves they well instructed had 

Of all that needed them to be inquird. 

They both, conceiving hope of comfort glad. 

With lighter hearts unto their home retird; 

Where they in secret counsell close conspird. 

How to effect so hard an enterprize. 

And to possesse the purpose they desird s 

Now this, now that, twixt them they did devize. 

And diverse plots did frame to maske in strange disguiao. 



308 THE FAERIE QUEENfi. 

At last the nonrse in lier fool-liardy wit 
Conceiv'd a bold devise, and thus bespake: 
" Daughter, I deeme that counsel aye most fit. 
That of the time doth dew advauntage take : 
Ye see that good king Uther now doth make 
Strong warre upon the Paynim brethren, hight 
Octa and Oza, whome hee lately brake 
Beside Cayr Verolame in victorious fight. 
That now all Britany doth burne in armes bright. 

" That therefore nought our passage may empeach, 

Let us in feigned armes ourselves disguize, 

And ourweake hands (need makes good schollers) teach 

The dreadful speare and shield to exercize : 

Ke certes, daughter, that same warlike wize, 

I weene, would you meseeme ; for ye beene tall 

And large of limbe t'atchieve an hard emprize ; 

Ne ought ye want but skil, which practize small 

Will bring, and shortly make you a mayd martiall. 

"And sooth, it ought your corage much inflame 

To heare so often, in that royall hous, 

!From whence to none inferior ye came. 

Bards tell of many wemen valorous. 

Which have full many feats adventurous 

Perform'd, in paragone of proudest men : 

The bold Bunduca, whose victorious 

Ex ploy ts made Eome to quake ; stout Guendolen ; 

iRenowmed Martia ; and redoubted Emmilen ; 

"And that which more then all the rest may sway. 
Late dayes en sample, which these eies beheld : 
In the last field before Menevia, 
Which Uther with those forrein Pagans held, 
I saw a Saxon virgin, the which feld 
Great Ulfin thrise upon the bloody playne; 
And, had not Carados her hand withheld 
Prom rash revenge, she had him surely slayne ; 
Yet Carados himselfe from her escapt with payne.** 

"Ah ! read," quoth Britomart, "how is she hight?" 

" Fay re Angela," quoth she, *' men do her call, 

No whit lesse fayre then terrible in fight : 

She hath the leading of a martiall 

And mightie people, dreaded more then all 

The other Saxons, which doe, for her sake 

And love, themselves of her name Angles call. 

Therefore, faire infant, her ensample make 

Unto thyselfe, and equaU corage to thee take." 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 307 

Her harty wordes so deepe into tlie mynd 
Of the young damzell sunke, that great desire 
Of warhke armes in her forthwith they tynd. 
And generous stout courage did inspyre. 
That she resolv'd, unweeting to her syre, 
Advent'rous knighthood on herselfe to don ; 
And counseld with her nourse her maides attyre 
To turne into a massy habergeon ; 
And bad her all things put in readiness anon. 

Th* old woman nought that needed did omit; 

But all thinges did conveniently purvay. 

It fortuned (so time their turne did fitt) 

A band of Britons, ryding on forray 

Few dayes before, had gotten a great pray 

Of Saxon goods ; emongst the which was seene 

A goodly armour, and full rich aray, 

Which long'd to Angela, the Saxon queene. 

All fretted round with gold and goodly wel beseene. 

The same, with all the other ornaments, 

King Ryence caused to be hanged hy ^ 

In his chiefe church, for endlesse moniments 

Of his successe and ^ladfull victory: 

Of which herselfe avising readily 

In th* evening late old Glauce thether led 

Paire Britomart, and, that same armory 

Downe taking, her therein appareled 

Well as she might, and with brave bauldrick garnished. 

Beside those armes there stood a mightie speare. 

Which Bladud made by magicke art of yore. 

And usd the same in batteilL aye to beare ; 

Sith which it had beene here preserv'd in store. 

For his great virtues proved long afore ; 

For never wight so fast in sell could sit, 

But him perforce unto the ground it bore : 

Both speare she tooke and shield which hong by it ; 

Both speare and shield of great powre, for her purpose fit. 

Thus when she had the virgin all arayd. 

Another harnesse which did hang thereby 

About herselfe she dight, that the yong mayd 

She might in equall armes accompany, 

And as her squyre attend her carefully : 

Tho to their ready steedes they clombe full light ; 

And through back waies, that none might them espy. 

Covered with secret cloud of silent night, 

Themselves they forth convaid, and passed forward right 



'^08 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

;iS"e rested tliey, till tliat to Paery Lond 

They came, as Merlin them directed late ; 

Where meetipg with this E-edcrosse knight she fond. 

Of diverse thinges discourses to dilate^ 

But most of Arthegall and his estate. 

At last their wayes so fell, that they mote part : - 

Then each to other, well afiectionate 

Friendship professed with unfained hart : 

The Eedcrosse knight diverst; but forth rode Britomart. 



CAJSTTO IV. 

, Bold Marinell of Britomarfc 

Is throwne on the Rich Strondt 
Faire Florimell of Arthur is 
Long followed, but not fond. 

Where is the antique glory now become, 
That whylome wont in wemen to appeare ? 
Wliere be the brave atchievements doen by some ? 
Where be the batteilles, where the shield and speare. 
And all the conquests which them high did reare, 
That matter made for famous poets verse, 
And boastfull men so oft abasht to iieare? 
Beene they all dead, and laide in dolefull herse? 
Or doen they onely sleepe, and shall againe reverse P 

If they be dead, then woe is me therefore ; 

But if they sleepe, O let them soone awake ! 

For all too long I burne with envy sore 

To heare the warlike feates which Homere spake 

Of bold Penthesilee, which made a lake 

Of Greekish blood so oft in Trojan plaine ; 

But when I reade, how stout Debora strake 

Proud Sisera, and how Camill' hath slaine 

The huge Orsilochus, I swell with great disdaine. 

Yet these, and all that els had puissaunce. 

Cannot with noble Britomart compare, 

Aswell for glorie of great valiaunce, 

As for pure chastitee and vertue rare. 

That all her goodly deedes doe well declare. 

Well worthie stock, from which the branches sprong . 

That in late yeares so faire a blossome bare. 

As thee, O queene, the matter of my song. 

Whose lignage from this lady I derive along ! 



THE FAEEIB QUEENE. 30l 

Wlio when, tlirougli speaches with the Eedcrosse knight. 

She learned had th' estate of Arthegall, 

And in each point herselfe informd aright, 

A friendly league of love perpetuall 

She with him bound, and conge tooke withall. 

Then he forth on his iourney did proceede. 

To seeke adventures which mote him befall, 

And win him worship through his warlike deed, 

Which alwaies of his paines he made the chiefest meed. 

But Britomart kept on her former course, 
Ne ever dofte her armes ; but all the way- 
Grew pensive through that amorous discourse, 
By which the Redcrosse knight did earst display 
Her lovers shape and chevalrous aray: 
A thousand thoughts she fashiond in her mind ; 
And in her feigning fancie did pourtray 
Him, such as fittest she for love could find. 
Wise, warlike personable, courteous, and kind. 

With such selfe-pleasing thoughts her wound slie fcdd, 
And thought so to beguile her grievous smart ; 
But so her smart was much more grievous breriil. 
And the deepe wound more deep engorgdher hart, 
That nought but death her dolour mote depart. 
So forth she rode, without repose or rest. 
Searching all lands and each remotest part, 
Following the guydance of her blinded guest, 
• Till that to the sea-coast at length she her addresfc. 

There she alighted from her light-foot beast. 

And, sitting down upon the rocky shore, 

Badd her old squyre unlace her lofty creast : 

Tho, having vewd awhile the surges hore 

That gainst the craggy clifts did loudly rore. 

And in their raging surquedry disdaynd 

That the fast earth affronted them so sore. 

And their devouring covetize restraynd. 

Thereat she sighed deepe, and after thus complaynd : 

" Huge sea of sorrow and tempestuous griefe, 

Wherein my feeble barke is tossed long 

Far from the hoped haven of reliefe. 

Why doe thy cruel billowes beat so strong. 

And thy moyst niountaines each on others throng, 

Threatning to swallow up my fearefuU lyfe? 

O, doe thy cruell wrath and spightfull \^ rong 

At length allay, and stint thy stormy strife, 

V/Jaich in these troubled bowels raignes and rageth ryfo ! 



810 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

*' For els my feeble vessell, crazd and crackt 
Through thy strong buffets and ontraiieons llri^rea. 
Cannot endure, but needes it must be wrackt 
On the rough rocks, or on the sandy shallowes. 
The whiles that Love it steres, and Fortune rowes. 
Love, my lewd pilott, hath a restlesse minde ; 
And Fortune, boteswaine, no assuraunce knowes ; 
But saile withouten starres gainst tyde and wiiule : 
How can they other doe, sith. both are bold and b^ l Ae I 

** Thou god of windes, that raignest in the seas. 

Til at raignest also in the continent. 

At last blow up some gentle gale of ease, 

The which may bring my ship, ere it be rent. 

Tin to the gladsome port of her intent ! 

Then, when I shall myselfe in safety see, 

A table, for eternall moniment 

Of thy p:reat grace and my great ieopardee, 

Great Neptune, I avow to hallow unto thee !" 

Then sighing softly sore, and inly deepe, 
She shut up all her plaint in privy griefe ; 
(For her great courage would not let her weepe ,) 
Till that old Glauce gan with sharpe repriefe 
Her to restraine, and give her good reliefe 
Tlirougb hope of those, which Merlin had her tcld 
Should of her name and nation be chiefe, 
And fetch, their being from the sacred mould 
Of her immortall womb, to be in heven enrold. 

Thus as slie lier recomforted, she spyde 

Where far away one, all in armour bright, 

With hasty gallop towards her did ryde : ' 

Her dolour soone she ceast, and on her dight 

Her helmet, to her courser mounting light : 

Her former sorrow into sudden wrath 

(Both coosen passions of distroubled spright) 

Converting, forth she beates the dusty path: 

Love and despight attonce her corage kindled hatli. 

As, when a foggy mist hath overcast 

The face of heven and the cleare ayre engroste. 

The world in darknes dwels ; till that at last 

The watry southwinde from the seaborde coste 

Upblowing doth disperse the vapour lo'ste, 

And poures itselfe forth in a stormy showre ; 

So the fa;\T:'e Britomart, having discloste 

Her clowdy care into a wrathfull stowre, 

The mist of griefe dissolv'd did into vengeance powra. 



THE FAEEIE QT7EENE. 311 

^Eftsoones, her goodly shield addressing fayre, 
' That mortall speare she in her hand did take. 

And unto battaill did herselfe prepayre. 

The knight, aijproaching, sternely her bespake ; 

" Sir Knight, that doest thy voyage rashly make 

By this forbidden way in my despight, 

Ne doest by others death ensample take ; 

I read thee soone retyre, whiles thou hast might, 

Least afterwards it be too late to take thy flight." 

Ythrild with deepe disdaine of his proud threat, 

She shortly thus ; " Fly they, that need to fly; 

Wordes fearen babes : I meane not thee entreat 

To passe ; but maugre thee will passe or dy :" 

"Ne lenger stayd for th* other to reply, 

But with sharpe speare the rest made dearly knowno. 

Strongly the straunge knight ran, and sturdily 

Strooke her full on the breast, that made her downe 

Decline her head, and touch her crouper with her crowa. 

But she againe him in the shield did smite 

With so fierce furie and great puissaunce, 

That, through his three-square scuchin percing quite 

And through his mayled hauberque, by mischaunce 

The wicked Steele through his left side did glaunce : 

Him so transfixed she before her bore 

Beyond his croupe, the length of all her launce ; 

Till, sadly soucing on the sandy shore. 

He tombled on an heape, and wallowd in his gore. 

Like as the sacred oxe that carelesse stands 
With gilden homes and flowry girlonds crownd. 
Proud of his dying honor and deare bandes, 
Whiles th' altars fume with frankincense arownd 
All suddeinly with mortall stroke astownd 
Doth groveling fall, and with his streaming gore 
Distaines the pillours and the holy grownd. 
And the faire flowres that decked him afore : 
So fell proud Marinell upon the pretious shore. 

The martiall mayd stayd not him to lament, 
But forward rode, and kept her ready way 
Along the Strond ; which, as she over-went, 
She saw bestrowed all with rich aray 
Of pearles and pretious stones of great assay, 
And all the gravell mixt with golden owre : 
Whereat she wondred much, but would not stay 
Por gold, or perles, or pretious stones, an howro. 
But them despised all ; for all was in her powro. 



312 THE FAESIE QUEENE. 

Whiles tlms lie lay in deadly stonisliment, 
Tydings hereof came to his mothers eare ; 
His mother was the blacke-browd Cymoent, 
The daughter of great Nereus, which did beare 
This warlike sonne unto an earthly peare, 
The famous Dumarin ; who on a day 
Finding the nymph asleepe in secret wheare. 
As he by chaunce did wander that same way, 
Was taken with her love, and by her closely lay. 

There he this knight of her begot, whom borno 

She, of his father, Marinell did name ; 

And in a rocky cave as wight forlorne 

Long time she fostred up, till he became 

A mighty man at armes, and mickle fame 

Pid get through ^reat adventures by him donne : 

For never man he suffred by that same 

Hich Strond to travell, whereas he did wonne, 

But that he must do battail with the sea-nymphes sonne. 

An hundred knights of honorable name 

He had subdew'd, and them his vassals made : 

That through all Farie Lond his noble fame 

Now blazed was, and feare did all invade, 

That none durst passen through that perilous glade : 

And, to advaunce his name and glory more, 

Her sea-god syre she dearely did perswade 

T' endow her sonne with threasure and rich store 

Bove all the sonnes that were of earthly wombes ybore. 

Tlie god did graunt his daughters deare demaund. 

To doen his nephew in all riches flow: 

Eftsoones his heaped waves he did commaund 

Out of their hollow bosome forth to throw 

All the huge threasure, which the sea below 

Had in his greedy gulfe devoured deepe. 

And him enriched through the overthrow 

And wreckes of many wretches, which did weepe 

And often wayle their wealth which he from them did keepe. 

Shortly upon thai shore there heaped was 

Exceeding riche? and all pretious things. 

The spoyle of all the world ; that it did pas 

The welth of th' East, and pompe of Persian kings : 

Gold, amber, yvorie, perles, owches, rings. 

And all that els was pretious and deare. 

The sea unto him voluntary brings ; 

That shortly he a great lord did appeare. 

As was in all the lond of Faery, or elsewheare. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 313 

Thereto he was a doughty dreaded knight, 
Tryde often to the scath of many deare, ^ • 
That none in equall armes him matchen might: 
The which his mother seeing gan to feare 
Least his too haughtie hardines might reare 
Some hard mishap in hazard of his life : 
Forthy she oft him counseld to forbeare 
The bloody batteill, and to stirre up strife, 
But after all his warre to rest his wearie knife: 

And, for his more assuraunce, she inquir d 

Oqo day of Proteus by his mighty spell 

(For Proteus was with prophecy inspir'd) 

Her deare sonnes destiny to her to tell, 

And the sad end of her sweet Marinell : 

"Who, through foresight of his eternall skill, 

Bad her from womankind to keepe him well ; 

For of a woman he should have much ill ; 

A virgin straunge and stout him should dismay or kilL 

Forthy she gave him warning ever day 
The love of women not to entertaine ; 
A lesson too too hard for living clay. 
From love in course of nature to refraine ! 
Yet he his mothers lore did well retaine, 
And ever from fay re ladies love did fly; 
Yet many ladies fayre did oft complaine. 
That they for love of him would algates dy : 
Dy, whoso list for him, he was loves enimy. 

But ah ! who can deceive his destiny, 

Or w^eene by warning to avoyd his fate ? 

That, when he sleepes in most security 

And safest seemes, him soonest doth amate. 

And findeth dew effect or soone or late ; 

So feeble is the powre of fleshly arme ! 

His mother bad h^m wemens love to hate, 

For she of womans force did feare no harme ; 

So weening to have arm'd him, she did quite disarmew 

This was that woman, this that deadly wownd,- 

That Proteus prophecide should him dismay; 

The which his mother vainely did expownd 

To be hart-wownding love, which should assay 

To bring her sonne unto his last decay. 

So tickle be the termes of mortall state 

And full of subtile sophismes, which doe play 

With double sences, and with false debate, 

T' approve the unkno wen purpose of eternall fate. 



S14i THE FAERIE QtJEENE. 

I'oo trew tlie famous Marinell it fownd ; 

Wlio, tbrougli late triall, on that wealthy strond 

Inn^lorious now lies in sencelesse swowncl, 

Through heavy stroke of Britomartis bond. 

Which when his mother deare did understond, 

And heavy tidings heard, whereas she playd 

Amongst her watry sisters by a pond, 

Gathering sweete daiFadiliyes, to have made 

Gay girlonds from the sun their forheads fayr to allude ; 

Eftesoones both flowres and girlonds far away 

She flong, and her faire deawy lockes yrent; 

To sorrow huge she turnd her former play, 

And gamesom merth to grievous drcriment; 

Shee threw herselfe downe on the contment, 

Ne word did speake, but lay as in a swowne. 

Whiles all her sisters did for her lament 

With yelling outcries, and with shrieking sowne : 

And every one did teare her girlond from her crown o. 

Soone as she uj) out of her deadly fitt 

Arose, she bad her chare tt to be brought ; 

And all her sisters, that with her did sitt, 

Bad eke attonce their charetts to be sought: 

Tho, full of bitter griefe and pensive thought, 

She to her wagon clombe ; elombe all the rest. 

And forth together went, with sorow fraught : 

The waves obedient to theyre beheast 

Them yielded ready passage, and their rage surceast. 

Great IN'eptune stoode amazed at their sight, 
Whiles on his broad rownd backe they softly slid, - 
And eke himselfe mournd at their mournful plight. 
Yet wist not what their wailing ment, yet did, 
!For great compassion of their sorow, bid 
His mighty waters to them buxome bee : 
Eftesoones the roaring billowes still abid, 
And all the griesly monsters of the see 
Stood gaping at their gate, and wondred them to see, 

A teme of dolphins raunged in aray 

Prew the smooth charett of sad Cymoent , 

Theynvere all taught by Triton to obay 

To the long raynes at her commaundement : • 

As swifte as swallowes on the waves they went. 

That their brode flaggy finnes no fome did reare, 

Ke bubling rowndell they behinde them sent ; 

Tho rest, of other fishes drawen weare, 

Which TNith their finny oars the swelling sea did sheara. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 315 

Soone as they bene arriv'd upon the brim 

Of the rich strond, their chare ts they forlore. 

And let their temed fishes softly swim 

Along the margent of the fomy shore, 

Least they their flnnes should braze, and surbate soro 

Their tender feete upon the stony grownd : 

And comminq: to the place, where all in gore 

And cruddy blood enwallowed they fownd 

The lucklesse Marinell lying in deadly swownd. 

His mother swowned thrise, and the third tune 
Could scarce recovered bee out of her paine ; 
Had she not beene devoide of mortall slime, 
She should not then have bene relyv'd againe: 
But, soone as life recovered had the raine, 
Shee made so piteous mone and deare wayment, ^ 
That the hard rocks could scarce from tears refrainc: 
And all her sister nymphes with one consent 
Supplide her sobbing breaches with sad complement. 

" Deare image of myselfe," she sayd, " that is 

The wretched sonne of wretched mother borne. 

Is this thine high advauncement ? O ! is this 

Th' immortall name, with which thee yet unborn© 

Thy grandsire ISTereus promist to adorneP 

Now lyest thou of life and honor refte ; 

Now lyest thou a lumpe of earth forlorne ; 

Ne of thy late life memory is lefte ; 

Ne can thy irrevocable desteny bee wefte ! 

" Fond Proteus, father of false prophecis ! 

And they more fond that credit to thee give ! 

Not this the worke of wo mans hand ywis, 

That so deepe wound through these deare members drive, 

I feared love ; but tliey that love doe live ; 

But they that dye, doe nether love nor hate : 

Nath'lesse to thee thy folly I forgive; 

And to myselfe, and to accursed fate, 

The guilt I doe ascribe : deare wisedome bought too late! 

" O ! what availes it of immortall seed 

To beene ybredd and never borne to dyeP 

Farre better I it deeme to die with speed • 

Then waste in woe and waylfull miserye : 

Who dyes, the utmost dolor doth abye; 

But who that lives, is lefte to waile his lossc : 

So life is losse, and death felicity : 

Sad life worse then glad death ; and greater cross© 

To Bee frcnds grave, then dead the grave selfo to cngroLJO. 



816 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

" But if tlie heavens did liis days envie, 
And my short blis maligne ; yet mote tliey well 
Thus much afford me, ere that be did die. 
That the dim eies of my deare Marinell 
I mote have closed, and him bed farewell, 
Sith other offices for mother meet 

They would not graunt 

Yett ! maulgre them, farewell, my sweetest sweet ! 
Farewell, my sweetest sonne, sith we no more shall jneet !" 

Thus when they all had sorrowed their fill, 
Thej^ softly gan to search his griesly wownd : 
And, that they might him handle more at will, 
They him disarmd; and, spredding on the grownd 
Their watchet mantles frindgd with silver rownd, 
They softly wipt away the geWy blood 
From til' orifice; which having well upbownd 
They pourd in soveraine balme and nectar good, 
Good both for erthly med'cine and for hevenly food. 

The, when the lilly-handed Liagore 

(This Liagore whilome had learned skill 

In leaches craft, by great Apolloes lore, 

Sith her whilome upon high. Pin dus hill 

He loved, and at last her wombe did fill 

With hevenly seed, whereof wise Pason sprong,) 

Did feele his pulse, shee knew there staled still 

Some little life his feeble sprites emong ; 

Which to his mother told, despeyre she from her ilong« 

Tho, up him taking in their tender hands, 

They easely unto her charett beare: 

Her teme at her commaundement quiet stands, 

Whiles they the corse into her wagon reare. 

And strrwe with flovrres the lamentable beare: 

Then all the rest into their coches dim, 

And through the brackish waves their passage shearej 

Upon great Neptunes necke they softly swim, 

And to her watry chamber swiftly carry him. 

Deepein the bottome of the sea, her bowre 

Is built of hollow billowes heaped hye, 

LikeT:.o thicke clouds that threat a stormy showre, 

And vauted all within like to the skye, 

li which the gods doe dwell eternally : 

There they him laide in easy couch well dight; 

And sent in haste for Tryphon, to apply 

Salves to his wounds, and medicines of might : 

For Trypon of sea-gods the soveramo leach in hight. 



THE FAERIE QUEliNE. Hl7 

T*iie willies the nymplies sifc all about klin rownd, 

Lameating kis mishap and ksayy pUojlit ; 

Atil ofte ills motlier, vevrin'^ his wide wowad. 

Cursed the haud that did so deadly smiiht 

Her dearest sonne, her dearest harts delight: 

But noae of all those curses overtooke 

The warlike maide, th' eusample of that might ; 

But fa^rely well shee thryvd, and well did brooke 

Her noble deedes, ne her right course for ought forsooke. 

Yet did false Archimage her still pursew. 
To bring to passe his mischievous intent, 
Now that he had her singled from the crew 
Of courteous knights, the prince and Fary gent. 
Whom late in chace of beauty excellent 
Shee lefte, purse wing that same foster strong; 
Of whose fowle outrage they impatient, 
And full of firy zele, him followed long, 
, To reskew her from shame, and to revenge her wrong. 

Through thick and thin, through, mountains and thiviigh 

Those two great champions did attonce pursew [phw'iis, 

The fearfull damzell with incessant payns ; 

Who from them fled, as light-foot hare from vew 

Of hunter swifte and sent of howndes trew. 

At last they came unto a double way; 

Where, doubtfuU which to take, her to reskew, 

Themselves they did dispart, each to assay 

Whether more happy were to win so goodly pray. 

But Timias, the princes gentle squyre. 
That ladies love unto his lord forlent, 
And with proud envy and indignant yro 
After that wicked foster fiercely went: 
So beene they three three sondry wayes ybent: 
But fayrest fortune to the prince befell ; 
Whose chaunce it was, that soone he did repent. 
To take that way in which that damozell 
Was fiedd afore, afiraid of him as feend of hell. 

At last of her far off he gained vew : 

Then gan he freshly prick 3 his fomy steed. 

And ever as he nigher to her drew, * 

So evermore he did increase his speed. 

And of each turning still kept wary heed: 

Alowd to her he oftentimes did call 

To doe away vaine doubt and needlcsse dreed: 

Full myld to her he spake, and oft let fall 

Many meeke wordes to stay and comfort her withalL 



318 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

But nothing miglit relent her hasty flight ; 

So deepe the deadly feare of that foul swaine 

Was earst impressed in her gentle spright: 

Like as a fearefull dove, which through the ralne 

Of the wide ayre her way does cut amaine, 

Having farre off espyde a tasseU gent, 

"VYhicli after her his nimble winges doth straine, 

Doubleth her hast for feare to bee for-hent, 

And with her pineons cleaves the liquid fermament. 

With no lesse hast, and eke with no lesse dreed 

That fearefull ladie fiedd from him that ment 

To her no evill thought nor evill deed ; 

Yet former feare of being fowly shent 

Carried her forward with her first intent : 

And though, oft looking backward, well she vewde 

Hei*selfe freed from that foster insolent, 

And that it was a knight which now her sewde, 

Yet she no lesse the knight feared then that villein i'\i3.e. 

His uncouth shield and straunge armes her dismayd. 

Whose like in Faery Lond were seldom scene; 

That fast she from him fledd, no lesse afrayd 

Then of wilde beastes if she had chased beene : 

Yet he her followd stilL with cor age keene 

So long, that now the golden Hesperus 

Was mounted high in top of heaven sheene. 

And warnd his other brethren ioyeous 

To light their blessed lamps in loves eternall hous. 

AH suddeinly dim wox the dampish ayre. 

And griesly shadowes covered heaven bright, 

That now with thousand starres was decked fayre: 

Which when the prince beheld, a lothfull sight, 

And that perforce, for want of lenger light, 

He mote surceasse his suit and lose the hope 

Of his long labour ; he gan fowly wyte 

His wicked fortune that had turnd aslope, 

And cursed night that reft from him so goodly scope, 

Tho, when her wayes he could no more descry, 

33ut to and fro at disaventure strayd; 

Like as a ship, whose lodestar suddeinly 

Covered with clouds her pilott hath dismayd; 

His wearisome pursuit perforce he stayd. 

And from his loftie steed dismounting low 

Did let him forage : dowue himself^ he layd 

Upon the grassy ground to sleepe a throw; 

The cold earth was his couch, the hard Steele his pillov. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 319 

But gentle Sleepe envyde him any rest; 

Instead thereof sad sorrow and disdaine 

Of his hard hap did vexe his noble brest, 

And thousand fancies bett his ydle brayne 

With their light wings, the sights of semblants vaines 

Oft did he wish that lady faire mote bee 

His Faery Queene, for whom he did complaine ; 

Or that his Faery Queene were such as shee : 

And ever hasty Night he blamed bitterlie: 

"Night ! thou fonle mother of annoy aunce sad. 
Sister of heavie Death, and nourse of Woe, 
Which wast begot in heaven, but for thy bad 
And brutish shape thrust downe to hell below. 
Where, by the grim floud of Cocytus slow. 
Thy dwelling is in Herebus blact hous, 
(Black Herebus, thy husband, is the foe 
Of all the gods,) where thou ungratious 
. Halfe of thy dayes doest lead in horrour hideous; 

" What had th| Eternall Maker need of thee 

The world in his continuall course to keepe. 

That doest all thinges deface, ne lettest see 

The beautie of his worke ? Indeed in sleepe 

The slouthfull body that doth love to steepe 

His lustlesse limbes, and drowne his baser mind, 

Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe 

Calls thee his goddesse, in his errour blind. 

And great dame Natures handmaide chearing every kind. 

"Eut well I wote that to an heavy hart 
Thou art the roote and nourse of bitter cares, 
Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts: 
Instead of rest thou lendest rayhng teares ; 
Instead of sleepe thou sendest troublous feares 
And dreadfull visions, in the which alive 
The dreary image of sad Death appeares : 
So from the wearie spirit thou doest drive 
Desired rest, and men of happinesse deprive. 

"Under thy mantle black there hidden lye 

Light-shonning Thefte, and traiterous Intent, 

Abhorred Bloodshed, and vile Felony, 

SharaefuU Deceipt, and Daunger imminent, 

Fowle Horror, and eke hellish Dreriment : 

All these I wote in thy protection bee, 

And light doe shonne, for feare of being shent: 

For light ylike is loth'd of them and thee ; 

And all, that lewdnesse love, do hate the light to see; 



320 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

** For day discovers all disliqnest wayes. 

And slieweth each thing as it is in deed : 

The prayses of High God he faire displayes. 

And His large bonntie rightly doth areed : 

Dayes dearest children be the blessed seed 

Wiiich Darkne'sse shall subdue and heaven win: 

Truth is his daughter ; he her first did breed 

Most sacred virgin without spot of sinne : 

Our life is day ; but death with darknesse doth begin. 

" O, when will Day then tume to me againe. 

And bring with him his long-expected light ! 

O Titan ! hast to reare thy ioyous waine ; 

Speed thee to spred^ abroad thy beames bright. 

And eh ace away this too long lingring Night ; 

Chace her away, from whence she came, to hell: 

She, she it is, that hath me done despight : 

There let her with the damned spirits dwell. 

And yield her rowme to Day, that can it goveme welL" 

Thus did the prince that wearie night outweare 

In restlesse anguish and unquiet paine ; 

And earely, ere the Morrow did upreare 

His deawy head out of the ocean maine, 

He up arose, as halfe in great disdaine, 

And clombe unto his steed : so forth he went 

With heavy looke and lumpish pace, that plaine 

In him bewraid great grudge and maltalent: 

His steed eke seemd t' apply his steps to his intent. 



CANTO Y. 

Prince Arthur hears of Florimell : 
Three fosters Timias wound; 

Belphoebe findes him almost dead. 
And reareth out of swownd. 

WoNDEE it is to see in diverse mindes 
How diversly Love doth his pageaunts play 
And shewes his powre in variable kindes : 
The baser wit, whose ydle thoughts alway 
Are wont to cleave unto the lowly clay, 
It stirreth up to sensuall desire. 
And in lewd slouth to wast his carelesse day; 
But in brave sprite it kindles goodly fire, 
TJiat to all high desert and honour doth aspire. 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 3* 

Ke sufferetli it uncomely Idleness e 

In his free thought to build her sluggish nest; 

Ne suffereth it thought of ungentlenesse 

Ever to creepe into his noble brest ; 

But to the highest and the worthiest 

Lifteth it up that els would lowly fall : 

It lettes not fall, it lettes it not to rest ; 

It lettes not scarse this prince to breath at all, 

But to his first poursuit him forward still doth call : 

Who long time wandred through the forest wyde 

To finde some issue thence ; till that at last 

He met a dwarfe that seemed terrifyde 

With some late perill which he hardly past. 

Or other accident which him aghast ; 

Of whom he asked, whence he lately came. 

And whether now he travelled so fast : 

For sore he swat, and, ronning through that same 

Thicke forest, was bescracht and both his feet nigh lame. 

Panting for breath, and almost out of hart, * 

The dwarfe him answerd ; " Sir, iU mote I stay 

To tell the same : I lately did depart 

From Faery court, where I have many a day 

Served a gentle lady of great sway 

And high accompt throughout all Elfin Land, 

Who lately left the same, and tooke this way : 

Her now 1 seeke ; and if ye understand 

Which way she fared hath, good sir, tell out of hand/* 

"What mister wight," saide he, "and how arayd?" 

"Hoyally clad," quoth he, *' in cloth of gold, 

As meetcst may beseeme a noble mayd ; 

Her faire lockes in rich circlet be enrold, 

A fayrer wight did never sunne behold ; 

And on a palfrey rydes more white then snow. 

Yet she herselfe is whiter manifold ; 

The surest signe, whereby ye may her know 

Is, that she is the fairest wight alive, I trow." 

"Now certes, swaine," saide he, " such one, I weene, 

Fast flying through this forest from her fo, 

A foule ill-favoured foster, I have scene ; 

Herselfe, well as I might, I reskewd tho. 

But could not stay ; so fast she did foregoe. 

Carried away with wings of speedy feare." 

** Ah ! dearest God," quoth he, ** that is great woo, • 

And wondrous ruth to all that sliaU it heare : 

But can yc read, sir, how I may her finde, or where?** 



322 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

**Perdy me lever were to weeten that," 

Saide he, *'tlien ransome of the richest knight. 

Or all the good that ever yet I gat : 

Bat froward fortune, and too forward night, 

Such happinesse did, maulgre, to me spight. 

And fro me reft both life and light attone. 

But, dvN^arfe, aread what is that lady bright 

That through this forest wandreth thus alone ; 

For of her errour straunge I have great ruth and mone,* 

"That ladie is," quoth he, "whereso she bee. 
The bountiest virgin and most debonaire 
That ever living eye, I weene, did see : 
Lives none this day that may with her compare 
*In stedfa^t chastitie and vertue rare. 
The goodly ornaments of beauty bright ; 
And is ycleped Florimell the fayre, 
Faire Florimell belov'd of many a knight, 
Yet she loves none but one, that MarineU is hight ; 

*' A sea-nympbes sonne, that Marinell is hight. 

Of my deare dame is loved dearly well ; 

In other none, but him, she sets delight; 

AH her dehght is set on MarineU ; 

But he sets nought at all by Florimell : 

For ladies love his mother long ygoe 

Did him, they say, forwarne through sacred spell : 

But fame now Hies, that of a forreine foe 

He is vslaine, which is the ground of all our woe. 

"Five daies there be since he (they say) was slaine. 

And fowre since Florimell the court forwent, 

And vowed never to returne againe 

Till him alive or dead she did invent. 

Therefore, faire sir, for love of knighthood gent 

And honour of trew ladies, if ye may 

By your good counsell, or bold hardiment. 

Or succour her, or me direct the way, 

Do one or other good, I you most humbly pray: 

" So may ye gaine to you full great renowme 

Of all good ladies through the worlde so wide. 

And haply in her hart finde highest rowme 

Of whom ye seeke to be most magnifide ! 

At least, eternall meede shall you abide." 

To whom the prince ; " Dwarfe, comfort to thee take; 

Forf till thou tidings learne what her betide, 

I here avow thee never to forsake : 

HI weares he armcs, that nill them use for ladies sake.** 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 823 

So witli the dwarfe lie back retourn'd againe. 

To seeke his lady, where he mote her linde ; 

But by the way he greatly gan complaine 

Tlie want of his good squire late left behinde, 

For whom he wondrous pensive grew in minde, 

"For doubt of daunger which mote him betide ; 

Por him he loved above all mankinde. 

Having him trew and faithfull ever tride, 

And bold, as ever squyre that waited by knights side : 

"Who all this while full hardly was assayd 

Of deadly daunger which to him betidd : 

For, whiles his lord pursewd that noble mayd. 

After that foster fowle he fiercely ridd 

To bene avenged of the shame he did 

To that faire damzell : him he chaced long 

Through the thicke woods wherein he would have hid 

His shamefull head from his avcDgement strong, 

And oft him threatned death for his outrageous wrong. 

!Nathelesse the villein sped himselfe so well, 

TVTiether through swiftnesse of his speedie beast, 

Or knowledge of those woods where he did dwell. 

That shortly he from daunger was releast, 

And out of sight escaped at the least ; 

Yet not escaped from the dew reward 

Of his bad deedes, which daily he increast, 

"Ne ceased not, till him oppressed hard 

The heavie plague that for such leachours is prepard. 

For, soone as he was vanisht out of sight. 

His coward courage gan emboldned bee. 

And cast t'avenge him of that fowle despight 

Which he had borne of his bold enimee : 

Tho to his brethren came, (for they were three 

Ungratious children of one gracelesse syre,) 

And unto them complayned how that he 

Had used beene of that fool-hardie squyre : 

So them with bitter words he stird to bloodie yre. 

Forthwith themselves with their sad instruments 

Of spoyle and murder they gan arme bylive. 

And with him foorth into the forrest went 

To wreake the wrath, which he did earst revive^ 

In there sterne brests, on him which late did drive 

Their brother to renroch and shamefull flight : 

For they had vow a that never he alive ^ 

Out of that forest should escape their might ; 

Vile rancour their rude harts had fdd with such despight. 



324 THE FAEBIE QXTEENE. 

Witliin tliat wood tliere was a covert glade, 

Foreby a narrow foord, to tliem well knowne, 

Tlirough whicli it was uneatli for wight to wade ; 

And now by fortune it was overflowne : 

!By that same way they knew that squyre iinknowne 

Mote algates passe ; forthy themselves they set 

There in await with thicke woods overgrowne. 

And all the while their malice they did whet 

With cruell threats his passage through the ford to let. 

It fortuned, as they devized had, 
The gentle squyre came ryding that same way, 
Unweeting of their wile and treason bad, 
And through the ford to passen did assay ; 
But that fierce foster, which late fled away, 
Stoutly foorth stepping on the further shore, 
Him boldly bad his passage there to stay, 
Till he had made amends, and full restore 
For all the damage which he had him doen afore. 

"With that, at him a quiv'ring dart he threw 
With so fell force, and villeinous despite, 
That through his haberieon the forkehead flew,' 
And through the linked mayles empierced quite, 
But had- no powre in his soft flesh to bite : 
That stroke the hardy squire did sore displease, 
But more that him he could not come to smite; 
For by no meanes the high banke he could sease,^ 
But labour'd long in that deepe ford with vaine disease. 

And still the foster with his long bore-speare 

Him kept from landins: at his wished will: 

Anone one sent out of the thicket neare 

A cruell shaft headed with deadly ill. 

And fethered with an unlucky quill ; 

The wicked Steele stayd not till it did light 

In liis left thigh, and deepely did it thrill: 

Exceeding griefe that wound in him empight. 

But more that with his foes he could not come to fight. 

At last, through wrath and vengeaunce, making way 

He on the ban eke arryved with mickle payne; 

AVhere the third brother him did sore assay. 

And drove at him with all his his might and mayne 

A forest-bill, which both his hands did strayne ; 

But warily he did avoide the blow, 

And with his speare requited him agayne, 

That both his sides were thrilled with the throw, 

And a large streamc of bloud out of the wound did flow. 



THE PAEEIE QUEENE. 325 

He, tombling downe, with gnashing teeth did bite 
The bitter earth, and bad to lett him in 
Into the balefulle house of endlesse night, 
Where wicked ghosts doe waile their former sin. 
Tho gan the battaile freshly to begin; 
For nathemore for that spectacle bad 
Did th' other two their cruell vengeaunce blin, 
But both attonce on both sides him bestad, 
And load upon him lavd, his life for to have had, 

Tho when that villayn he aviz*d, which late 

Affrighted had the fairest Florimell, 

Full of fiers fury and indignant hate 

To him he turned, and with rigor fell 

Smote him so rudely on the pannikell, ^ • 

That to the chin he clefte his head in twaine : 

Downe on the ground his carkas groveling fell ; 

His sinfull sowle with desperate disdaine 

Out of her fleshly ferme fled to the place of paine. 

That seeing, now the only last of three 

Who with that wicked shafte him wounded had, 

Trembling with horror,*(as that did foresee 

The fearefuU end of his avengement sad. 

Through which he follow should his brethren bad,) 

His bootelesse bow in feeble hand up caught. 

And therewith shott an arrow at the lad; 

Which fayntly fluttring scarce his helmet raught. 

And glauncing fel to ground, but him annoyed naught. 

With that, he would have fled into the wood; 

But Timias him lightly overhent. 

Bight as he entring was into the flood, 

And'strooke at him with force so violent. 

That headlesse him into the foord he sent; 

The carcas with the streame was carried downe. 

But th'head fell backeward on the continent; 

So mischief fel upon the meaners crowne: [nownc: 

They three be dead with shame; the squire lives with re- 

He lives, but takes small ioy of his renowne; 
For of that cruell wound he bled so sore, 
That from his steed he fell in deadly swowne; 
Yet still the blood forth gusht in so great store 
That he lay wallowed all in his owne gore. 
Now God thee keepe ! thou gentlest squire alive. 
Els shall thy loving lord thee see no more; 
But both of comfort him thou shalt deprive. 
And eke thyselfe of honor which thou didst atchive» 
15 



326 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Providence heverJy passetli living thonglit. 
And doth for wretched mens reliefe make wnv: 
For loe ! great grace or foi tune tlietber brouglit 
Comfort to him that comfortlesse now lay. 
In those same woods ye well remember may 
How that a noble hunteresse did wcnne, 
Shee, tbat base Braggadochio d d affray, 
j'^nd made him fast out of the forest ronne ; 
Eelphoebe was her name, as faire as Phoebus sunne. 

Shee on a dny, as shee pursewd the chace 
Of some wilde beast, which with her arrowes lieene 
She wounded had, the same along did trace 
"By tract of blood, which she had freshly scene 
To have besprinckled all the grassy greene; 
."By the great persue which she there perceav'd 
Well hoped shee the beast engor'd had beene, 
And made more haste the life to have bereav'd: 
33ut ah! her expectation greatly was deceiv'd. 

Shortly she came whereas that woefull squire 
"With blood deformed lay in deadly swownd; 
In whose faire eyes, like lamps of qtienched fire 
The christall humor stood consrealed rownd; 
His locks, like faded leaves fallen to grownd. 
Knotted with blood in bounches rudely ran; 
And his sweete lips, on which be 'ore that stownd 
The bud of youth to blossome faire began, 
Spoild of their rosy red were woxen pale and wan. 

Saw never living eie more heavy sight, 

That could have made a rocke of sone to rew, 

Or rive in twaine :. which when that lady bright, 

Besides all hope, with melting eies did vew. 

All suddeinly abasht shee chaunged hew. 

And with sterne horror back:^\ ard gan to start: 

But, when she better him beheld, shee grew 

Full of soft passion and unwonted smart: 

The point of pitty perced through her tender hart. 

Meetly shee bowed downe, to weete if hfe 

Yett in his frozen members did remaine; 

And, feeling by his pulses beating rife 

That the weake sowle her seat did yett retaine, 

Shee cast to comfort him with busy paine : 

Hi^ double folded necke she reard upright. 

And rubd his temples and each trem idling vainej 

His mayled haberieon she did undight, 

And from his head his heavy burganet did hght. 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 827 

Into the woods thenceforth in haste shee went. 

To S-^eke for hearbes that mote him remedy; 

For shee of h/rbes had great intenduneat, 

Taught of the nymphe which from her infancy 

Her nourced had in trew nobihty: 

There, whether yt divine tobacco were, 

Or panachaea, or polygony, 

She fownd, and brought it to her patient deare, 

Who al this while lay bleding out his hart-blood n?are. 

The soveraine weede betwixt two marbles plaine 

Shee pownded small, and did in peeces bruzs; 

And then atweene her lilly handes twaine 

Into his wound the juice thereof did scruze; 

And round about, as she could well it uze, 

The flesh therewith she suppled and nid steepe, 

T' abate all spasme and soke the swelling bruze; 

^nd, after having searcht the intuse deepe, 

She with her scarf d.d bind the wound, from cold to keope. 

By this he had sweet life recur'd agayne. 
And, groning inly deepe, at last his eies, 
His watry eies drizli ng like deawy rayne, 
He up gan lifte toward the azure skies, 
From whence descend all hopelesse remedies; 
Therewith he sigh'd; and, turning him aside. 
The goodly maide full of divinities 
And gifts of heavenly grace he by him spide, 
Her bow and gilden quiver lying him beside. 

" Mercy ! deare Lord," said he, "what grace is this 

That thou l:ast shewed to me sinfull wight. 

To send thine angell from her bowre of bhs 

To comfort me in my distressed plight ! 

Angell, or goddesse doe I call thee right ? 

What service may I doe unto thee meete. 

That hast from darkenes me returnd to light, 

And with thy hevenly salves and med'cioes sweete 

Hast drest my sinfull wounds ! I kisse I thy blessed feete.^ 

Thereat she blushing said ; "Ah! gentle squire, 

Nor goddesse I, nor angell ; but the mayd 

And daughter of a woody nymphe, desire 

No service but thy safety and ayd; 

Which if thou gaine, I shal be well apayd. 

Wee mortall wights, whose lives and fortunes bee 

To common accidents stil open layd, 

Are bownd with commun bond of frailtee,^ 

To succor wretched wights whom we captived see.** 



328 THE FAEEIE QITEENE. 

By this lier damzells, whicli the former chace 

Had undertaken after her, arryv'd, 

As did Belphoebe, in the bloody place. 

And thereby deemd the beast had been depriv'd 

Of life, Trhom late their ladies arow ryv'd : 

Porthy the bloody tract they foUowd fast, 

And every one to ronne the swiftest stry v'd ; 

But two of them the rest far overpast, 

And where their lady was arrived at the last. 

Where when they saw that goodly boy with blood 
Pefowled, and their lady dresse his wownd, 
They wondred much ; and shortly understood 
How him in deadly cace their lady fownd, 
And reskewed out of the heavy stownd. 
Eftsoones his warlike courser, which was stray d 
Farre in the wood s whiles that he lay in swownd, 
She made those damzels search; which being stayd, 
They did him set thereon, and forth with them convayd. 

Into that forest farre they thence him led 

Where was their dwelling; in a pleasant glade 

With mountaines rownd about environed 

And mightie woodes, which did the valley shade, 

And hke a stately theatre it made 

Spreading itselfe into a spatious plaine; 

And in the midst a little river pi aide 

Emongst the pumy stones, which seemed to plaine 

With gentle murmure that his course they did restraine. 

Beside the same a dainty place there lay, 

Planted with mirtle trees and laurells greene. 

In which the birds song many a lovely lay 

Of Gods high praise, and of thiir loves sweet teene. 

As it an earthly paradize had beene: 

In whose enclosed shadow there was pight 

A faire pavihon, scarcely to be scene, 

The which was al within most richly dight, 

That greatest princes living it mote well delight. 

Thether they brouorht that wounded squyre, and layd 
In easie couch his feeble limbes to rest. 
He rested him awhile ; and then the mayd 
His readie wound with better salves new drest: 
Daily she dressed him, and did the best, 
His grievous hurt to guarish, that she might; 
That shortly she his dolour hath redrest, 
And his foule sore reduced to faire plight : 
It she reduced, but himselfe destroyed quight. 



THE PAEEIB QUEENE. 329 

O foolisli pTiysick, and uufruitfiill paine, 

That lieales up one, and makes another wound ! 

She liis hurt thigh to him recurd againe, 

But hurt his hart, the which before was sound. 

Through an unwary dart which did rebownd 

From her faire eyes and gratious count enaunce. 

What bootes it him from death to be unbownd. 

To be captived in endlesse duraiince 

Of sorrow and despeyre without aleggeaunce! 

Still as his wound did gather, and grow hole. 
So still his hart woxe sore, and health decayd : 
Madnesse to save a part, and lose the whole ! 
Si;ilL whenas he beheld the heavenly mayd. 
Whiles daily playsters to his wownd she layd. 
So still his malady the more increast, 
The whiles her matchlesse beautie him dismayd. 
Ah God ! what other could he do at least, 
But love so fayre a lady that his Hfe releast ! 

Long while he strove in his corageous brest 

With reason dew the passion to subdew. 

And love for to dislodge out of his nest : 

Still when her excellencies he did vew. 

Her soveraine bountie and celestiall hew, 

The same to love he strongly was constraynd: 

But, when his meane estate he did revew. 

He from such hardy boldnesse was restraynd, 

And of his lucklesse lott and cruell love thus playnd : 

" IJnthankfull wretch," said he, "is this the meed. 
With which her soverain mercy thou doest quight? 
Thy life she saved by her gratious deed ; 
But thou doest weene with villeinous despight 
To blott her honour and her heavenly light : 
Dye ; rather dye then so disloyally 
Deeme of her high desert, or seeme so light: 
Fayre death it is, to shonne more shame, to dy : 
Dye; rather dye than ever love disloyally. 

''But if, to love, disloyalty it bee. 
Shall I then hate her that from deathes dore 
Me brought? ah! farre be such reproach fro mee! 
What can I lesse doe then her love therefore, 
Sith I her dew reward cannot restore P 
Dye ; rather dye, and dyeing doe her serve ; 
DyiDg her serve, and living her adore; 
Thy life she gave, thy life she doth deserve : 
'Dye; rather dye then ever from her service sweire. 



830 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

" Bui, foolisli boy, what bootes tlij service bace 
To lier, to wliom the heavens doe serve and sew ? 
Thou, a meane squyre, of meeke and lowly place; 
She, hevenly borne and of celestiall hew. 
How then? of all love taketli equall vew : 
And doth not hi2:hest God vouchsafe to talce 
The love and service of the basest crew ? 
If she will not ; dye meekly for her sake : 
Pye; rather dye then ever so faire love forsake!'* 

Thus warreid he long time against his will ; 
Till that through weakness he was forst at last 
To yield himselfe unto the mightie ill, 
Which, as a victour proud, gan ransack fast 
His inward partes and all his entrayles wast. 
That neither blood in face nor life in hai t 
It left, but both did quite drye up and blast ; 
As percing levin, which the inner part 
Of every thing consumes and calcineth by art. 

Which seeing fayre Belphoebe gan to feare, 

Least that his wound were inly well not heald. 

Or that the wicked Steele empoysned were : 

Litle shee weend that love he close concealed. 

Yet still he wasted, as the snow congeald 

W^hen the bright sunne his beams thereon doth beat: 

Yet never he his hart to her reveal d ; 

But rather chose to dye for sorow great 

Then with dishonorable termes her to entreat. 

She, gracious lad}^ yet no paines did spare 

To doe him ease, or doe him remedy: 

Many restoratives of vertues rare 

And costly cordialles she did apply, 

To mitigate his stubborne malady: 

But that sweet cordiall, which can restore 

A love-sick hart, she did to him envy; 

To him, and to all th' unworthy world forlore, 

She did envy that soveraine salve in secret store. 

That daintie rose, the daughter of her morne, 
More deare then life she tendered, whose flowre 
The girlond of lier honour did adorne : 
Ne suffred she the middayes scorching powre, 
"Ne the sharp northeme wind thereon to showre; 
But lapped up her silken leaves most chayre, 
Whenso the froward skye began to lowre ; 
But, soone as calmed was the cristall ayre, 
She did it fayre dispred and let to llorish fayre. 



THE FAERIE QXTEENE. 8i5l 

Efccrnall God, in liis almig^litie powre. 
To make ensample of his heavenly grace, 
In paradize whylome did plant this flowre ; 
Whence he it fetcht out of her native placa, 
And did in stocke of earthly flesh enrace, 
That mortall men her glory should admyre. 
In gentle ladies breste and bounteous race 
Of woman-kind it fayrest flowre doth spyre, 
And beareth fruit of honour and all chast desyre, 

Fayre ympes of beautie, whose bright shining beames 
Adorne the world with like to heavenly light, 
And to your willes both royalties and reames 
Subdew, through conquest of your wondrous might ; 
With this fayre flowre your goodly girlonds digiit 
Of chastity and vertue virginall. 
That shall embellish more your beautie bright, 
And crowne your heades with heavenly coronal 1, 
Such as the angels weare before God's tribunall ! 

To youre faire selves a faire ensample frame 
Of this faire virgin, this Belphoebe fayre ; 
To whom, in perfect love and spotless fame 
Of chastitie, none living may compayre 
Ne poysnous envy iustly can empayre 
The prayse of her fresh-flowring maydenhead; 
Porthy she standeth on the highest stayre 
Of th* honourable stage of womanhead. 
That ladies all may follow her ensample dead. 

In so great prayse of stedfast chastity 
Nathlesse she was so courteous and kynde, 
Tempred with grace and goodly modesty, 
That seemed those two vertues strove to fynd 
The higher place in her heroick mynd : 
So striving each did other more augment, 
And both encreast the prayse of womankynd 
And both encreast her beautie excellent : 
So all did make ia her a perfect complement- 



333 TSE FAEEIE QUEENB* 



CAJSTTO VI. 

The birth of fayre Belphcebe and 

Of Amorett is told : 
The gardins of Adonis fraught 

With pleasures manifold. 

Well may I weene, faire' ladies, all this while 

i^'e wonder how this noble damozell 

So great perfections did in her compile, 

Sith that in salvage forests she did dwell. 

So farre from court and royal citadell, 

The great schoolmaistresse of all courtesy: 

Seemeth that such wilde woodes should far expel! 

All civile usage and gentility, 

And gentle sprite deforme with rude rusticity. 

But to this faire Belphcebe in her berth 
The hevens so favourable were and free, 
Looking with myld aspect upon the earth 
In th' horoscope of her nativitee, 
That all the gifts of grace and chastitee 
On her the}^ poured forth of plenteous home: 
love laught on Yenus from his soverayne see. 
And Phoebus with faire beames did her adorne, 
And all the graces rockt her cradle being borne. 

Her berth was of the wombe of morning dew. 
And her conception of the ioyous prime ; 
And alJ her whole creation did her shew 
Pure and unspotted from all loathly crime 
That is in generate in fleshly slime. 
So was this virgin borne, so was she bred; 
So was she trayned up from time to time 
In all chaste vertue and true bountihed, 
Till to her dew perfection she were ripened. 

Her mother was the faire Chrysogonee, 

The daughter of Amphisa, who by race 

A Paerie was, yborne of high degree : 

She bore Belphcebe; she bore in like cace 

Payre Amoretta in the second place: 

These two were twinnes, and twixt them two did share 

The heritage of all celestiall grace ; 

That all the rest it seemd they robbed bare 

Of bounty, and of beautie, and all vertues rare. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 333 

It were a goodly storie to declare 
13y Tvliat straunge accident fa ire Chrysogone 
Conceiv'd these infants, and how them she baro 
In this wilde forrest wandring all alone, 
After she had nine moneths tulfild and gone: 
For not as other wemens commune brood 
They were enwombed in the sacred throne 
Of her chaste bodie; nor with commune food, 
As other wemens babes, they sucked vitall blood s 

33ut wondrously they were begot and bred 

Through influence of th' hevens fruitfull ray. 

As it in antique bookes is mentioned. 

It was upon a sommers shinie day, 

When Titian faire his beanies did display, 

In a fresh fountaine, far from all mens vew^ 

She bath'd her brest the boyling heat t' allay; 

She bath'd with roses red and violets blew, 

And all the sweetest flowers that in the forrest grew. 

Till faint through yrkesome werines a down e 

Upon the grassy ground herselfe she layd 

To sleepe, the whiles a gentle slumbring swowne 

Upon her fell all naked bare displayd : 

The sunbeames bright upon her body playd, 

Being through former bathing mollifide. 

And pierst into her wombe ; where they embayd 

With so sweet sence and secret powre unspide. 

That in her pregnant flesh they shortly fructifide. 

Miraculous may seeme to him that reades 

So straunge ensample of conception ; 

But reason teacheth that the fruitfull seadea 

Of all things living, through impression 

Of the sunbeames in moyst comi^lexion, 

Doe life conceive and quickned are by kynd: 

So, after Nilus inundation. 

Infinite shapes of creatures men doe fynd 

Informed in the mud on which the sunne hath sliynd. 

Great father he of generation 

Is rightly cald, th' authour of life and light; 

And his faire sister for creation 

Ministreth matter fit, which, tempred right 

With heate and humour, breedes the living wight. 

So sprong these twinnes in womb of Chrysogone ; 

Yet wist she nought thereof, but sore aflright 

Wondred to see her belly so upblone, 

Which still increast till she her terme had full outgone. 



834 THE FAEKIE QTJEENE. 

Whereof conceiving shame and foule disgrace, 
Albe her guiillesse conscience her cleard, 
She lied into the ^vilderuesse a space. 
Till that umTeeldy burden she iiad re'ard, 
And shund dishonor which as death she teardc- 
Where, wearie of long traveill, downe to rest 
Herselfe she set, and comfortably cheard ; 
There a sad cloud of sleepe her overkest, 
And seized every sence with sorrow sore opprest. 

It fortuned, faire Yenus having lost 

Her little sonne, the winged god of love, ^ 

AVho for some light displeasure, which him crost, •► 

T/hH from her fled as fiit as a very dove. 

And left her blisfuU bowre of lO)- above j 

(So from her often he had fled away, 

Vvhcn she for ought him sharpely did reprove. 

And wandred in the world m straunge aray, 

Disguiz'd in thousand shapes, that none might him bewray :) 

Him for to seeke, she left her heavenly hous, 
The house of goodly formes and faire aspects, 
Whence a]l the world derives the glorious 
Features of beautio and all shapes select, 
With which high God his workmanship hath deckt^ 
And seaixhed everie way through which his wings 
Had borne him, or his tract she mote detect; 
She prom.ist kisses sweet, and sweeter things, 
Unto the man that of him tydmgs to her brings. 

First she him sought in court ; where most he us'd 

Whylome to haunt, but there she found him not; 

But many there she found which sore accus'd 

His falshood, and with fowle infamous blot 

His cruell deedes and wicked wyles did spot: 

Ladies and lordes she every where mote lieare 

Complayning, how with his empoysoned shot 

Their wofull harts he wounded had whyleare, 

And so had left them languishing twixt hope and feare. 

She then the cities sought from gate to gate. 
And everie one did aske, Did he him see ? 
And everie one her answerd, that too late 
He had him scene, and felt the crueltee 
Of his sharp dartes and whot artilleree : 
And every one threw forth reproches rife 
Of his mischievous deedes and sayd that hee 
Was the disturber of all civill life, 
The enimy of peace, and authour of all strife. 



THE PAEBIE QUEENS, 335 

Then in the conntrey she abroad him souglit, 
And in the rurall cottages inquir'd ; 
AVhere also many plaintes to her were brought, 
. IIo^v he their heedelesse harts with love had fir'd, 
And his false venim through their veines inspir'd ; 
And eke the gentle shepheard swaynes, which sat 
Keeping their fleecy flockes as they were hyr'd. 
She sweetly heard complaine both how and what 
Her Sonne had to them doen ; yet she did smile thereat. 

But, when in none of all these she him got. 
She gan avize where els he mote him hyde : 
At last she her bethought that ishe had not 
Yet sought the salvage woods and forests wyde. 
In which full many lovely nymphes abyde ; 
Mongst whom might be that he did closely lye. 
Or that the love of some of them him tyde : 
Forthy she thether cast her course t' apply, 
To search the secret haunts of Dianes company. 

Shortly unto the wasteful! woods slie came. 
Whereas she found the goddesse with her crew, 
After late chace of their embrewed game. 
Sitting beside a fountaine in a rew ; ^ 
Some of them washing with the liquid dew 
From off their dainty limbs the dusty sweat 
And soyle, which, did deforme their lively hew. 
Others lay shaded from the scorching heat ; 
The rest upon her person gave attendance great. 

She, having hong upon a bough, on high 

Her bow and painted quiver, had unlaste 

Her silver buskins from her nimble thigh. 

And her lanck loynes ungirt, and brests unbraste, 

After her heat the breatliing cold to taste ; 

Her golden lockes, that late in tresses bright 

Embreaded were for hindring of her haste, 

ISTow loose about her shoulders hong undight, 

And were with sweet ambrosia all besprinckled light, 

Soon^ as she Venus saw behinde her backe, 

She was asham'd to be so loose surpriz'd ; 

And woxe halfe wroth against her damzcls slacke, 

That had not her thereof before- aviz'd, 

But suffred her so carelessly disguiz'd 

Be overtaken : soone her garments loose 

Upgath'ring, in her bosome she compriz'd 

Well as she might, and to the goddesse rose ; 

Whiles all her nymphes did like a girlond her enclose. 



S36 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Goodly she gan faire Cytlierea greet, 

And shortly ask^d her what cause her brought, 

Into that wildernesse for her unmeet. 

From her sweete bowres and beds with pleasures fraught : 

That suddein chaung she straung adventure thougiib. 

To whom halfe weeping she thus answered ; 

That she her dearest sonne Cupido sought 

"Who in his frowardness from her was fled ; 

That she repented sore to have h\m angered. 

Thereat Diana gan to smile, in scome 

Of her vaine playnt, and to her scoffing sayd ; 

" Great pitty sure that ye be so forlorne 

Of your gay sonne, that gives you so good ayd 

To your disports ; ill mote ye bene apayd !'* 

But she was more engrieved, and replide : 

" Faire sister, ill beseem.es it to upbrayd 

A dolefull heart with so disdainfull pride ; 

The hke that mine may be yom* paine another tide. 

" As you in woods and wanton wildernesse 
Your glory sett to chace the salvage beasts 5 
So my delight is all in ioyfulnesse. 
In beds, in bowres, in banckets, and in feasts : 
And ill becomes you, with your lofty creasts. 
To scorne the ioy that love is glad to seeke : 
We both are bownd to follow heavens beheasts 
And tend our charges with obeisaunce meek ; 
Spare, gentle sister, with reproch my paine to neke 5 

" And tell me if that ye my sonne have heard 
To lurke emongst your nimphes in secret wize. 
Or keepe their cabins : much I am affeard 
Lest he like one of them himselfe disguize. 
And turne his [irrows to their exercize : 
So may he long himselfe full easie hide ; 
For he is faire, and fresh in face and guize 
As any nimphe ; let not it be envide." 
So saying every nimph full narrowly shee eide. 

Eut Phoebe therewith sore was angered, * 

And sharply saide ; " Goe, dame ; goe seeke your boy, 

"Where you him lately lefte, in Mars his bed : 

He comes not here ; we scorne his foolish ioy, 

"Ne lend we leisure to his idle toy : 

But, if I catch him in this company, 

By Stygian lake I vow, whose sad annoy 

The gods doe dread, he dearly shall abye : 

lie cEp his wanton wings that he no more shall flye.** 



THE FAEBIB QTJEENB. 337 

Whom wlienas Venus saw so sore displeasd, 
Shee inly sory was, and gan relent 
What shee had said : so her shee soone appeasd 
* With sugred words and gentle blandishment, 
Which as a fountaine from her sweete lips went 
And welled goodly forth, that in short space 
She was well pleasd, and forth her damzells sent 
Through all the woods, to search from place to plac© 
If any tract of him or tidings they mote trace. 

To search the god of love her nimphes she sent 

Throughout the wandering forest every where : 

And after them herselfe eke with her went 

To seeke the fugitive both farre and nere. 

So long they sought, till they arrived were 

In that same shady covert whereas lay 

Faire Crysogone in slombry traunce whilere ; 

Who in her sleepe (a wondrous thing to say) 

Unwares had borne two babes as faire as sprmging day, 

Unwares she them conceivd, unwares she bore : 
She bore withouten paine, that she conceiy'd 
Withouten pleasure ; ne her need implore 
Lucinaes aide : which when they both perceiv*d, 
They were through wonder nigh of sence berev'dt 
And gazing each on other nought bespake : 
4.t last they both agreed her seeming grieved 
Oat of her heavie swowne not to awake, 
But from her loving side the tender babes to take. 

Up they them tooke, each one a babe uptooke,, 
And with them carried to be fostered : 
Dame Phoebe to a nymphe her babe betooke 
To be upbrought in perfect maydenhed, 
And, of herselfe, her name Belphoebe red : 
But Venus hers thence far away convayd. 
To be upbrought in goodly womanhed ; 
And, in her little Loves stead which was strayd. 
Her Amoretta cald, to comfort her dismayd. 

She brought her to her ioyous paradize 

Wher most she wonnes, when she on earth does dwell. 

So faire a place as nature can devize : 

Wether in Paphos, or Cytheron hill, 

Or it in Gnidus bee, I wote not well ; 

But well I wote by triall, that this same 

All other pleasaunt places doth excell, 

And called is, by her lost lovers name. 

The gardin of Adonis, far renowmd by fame* 



.^'^8 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

In tliat same gardin all the goodly ilowrcs, 

Wherewith dame Nature doth her beautify 

And decks the girlonds of her paramoures. 

Are fetcht : there is the first seminary 

Oi all things that are borne to live and dye, 

According to their kynds. Long worke it were 

Here to account the endlesse progeny 

Of all the weeds that bud and blossome there ; 

But so much as doth need must needs be counted here. 

It sited was in fruitful! soyle of old, 
And girt in with two walls on either side ; 
The one of yron, the other of bright gold. 
That none might thorough breake, nor overstride ; 
And double gates it had w^hich opened wide, 
, By which both in and out men moten pas ; 
Til* one faire and fresh, the other old and dride : 
Old Genius the porter of them was,. 
Old Genius, the which a double nature has. 

He letteth in, he letteth out to wend 
All that to come into the world desire : 
A thousand thousand naked babes attend ^ 
About him day and night, which doe require 
That he with fleshly weeds would them attire : 
Such as him list, such as eternall fate 
Ordained hath, he clothes with sinfull mire. 
And sendeth forth to live in mortall state, 
Till they agayn returne backe by the hinder gate. 

After that they againe retourned beene, 

They in that gardin planted bee agayne. 

And grow afresh, as they had never scene 

Fleshly corruption nor mortall payne: 

Some thousand yeares so doen they there remayne. 

And then of him are clad with other hew, 

Or sent into the chaungefull world agayne, 

Till thether they retourne where first they grew: 

So, like a wheele, arownd they ronne from old to now. 

'Ne needs there gardiner to sett or sow, 
To plant or prune; for of their owne accord 
All things, as they created were, doe grow. 
And yet remember well the mighty word 
"Which first was spoken by th* Almighty Lord, 
That bad them to increase and midtijply: 
Ne doe they need, with water of the ford 
Or of the clouds, to moysten their roots dry; 
For in tliemselves eternall moisture they imply. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Infinite shapes of creatures there are bred, 

And uncouth fornxcs, which none yet ever knew: 

And every sort, is in a sondry bed 

Sett by itselfe, and ranckt in comely rew: 

Some iStt for reasonable sowles t 'indew ; 

Some made for beasts, some made for birds to weare; 

And all the fruilfall spawne of fishes hew 

In endlesse rancks along enraunged were. 

That seemd the ocean could not containe them there. 

Daily they grow, and daily forth are sent 

Into the world, it to replenish more ; 

Yet is the stocke not lessened nor spent. 

But Still remaines in everlasting store 

As it at first created was of yore : 

For in the wide wombe of the world there lyes. 

In h xtefuU darknes and in deep horrore, 

An huge eternall chaos, which supplyes. 

The substaunces of natures fruitfull progenyes. 

All things from thence doe their first being fetch. 
And borrow matter whereof they are made ; 
Which, whenas forme and feature it does ketch. 
Becomes a body, and doth then invade 
The state of life out of the griesly shade. 
That Bubstaunce is eterne, and bideth so ; 
Ne, when the life decayes and forme does fade 
Doth it consume and into nothing goe, 
But chaunged is and often altred to and froe* 

The substaunce is not chaungd nor altered, 

Batth' only forme and outward fashion; 

For every substaunce is conditioned 

To chaunge her hew, and sondry formes to don. 

Meet for her temper and complexion : 

For formes are variable, and decay 

B7 course of kinde and by occasion ; 

And that faire flowre of beautie fades away, 

As doth the lilly fresh before the sunny ray. 

Great enimy to it, and to all the rest 

That in the gardin of Adonis springs. 

Is wicked Time ; who with his scyth addrest 

Does mow the flowring herbes and goodly things. 

And all their glory to the ground downe 'flings. 

Where they do wither and are fowly mard : 

He flyes about, and with his flaggy wings 

Beates downe both leaves and buds without regard, 

Ne ever pitty may relent his malice hard. 



340 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

Yet pitty often did tlie gods relent, 

To see so faire tliinges mard and spoiled qiiight: 

And their great mother Yenns did lament . 

The losse of her deare brood, her deare delight: 

Her hart was pierst with pitty at the sight. 

When walking through the gardin them she spyde. 

Yet no'te she find redresse for such despight : 

For all that lives is subiect to that law: 

All things decay in time, and to their end doe draw. 

But were it not that Time their troubler is. 
AH that in this delightfnll gardin growes 
Should happy bee, and have immortall hlis : 
For here all plenty and all pleasure ilowes ; 
And sweete Love gentle fitts emongst them throwes 
Without fell rancor or fond gealosy: 
Franckly each paramour his lemian knowes ; 
Each bird his mate ; ne any does envy 
Their goodly meriment and gay felicity. 

There is continual 1 spring, and harvest there 
Continuall, both meeting at one t^^me : 
For both the boughes doe laughing blossoms beare. 
And with fresh colours decke the wanton pryme, 
And eke attonce the heavy trees they clyme, 
Which seeme to labour under their iruitcs lode: 
The whiles the ioyous birdes make their pastyme 
Emongst the shady leaves, their sweet abode, 
And tiieir trew loves without suspition tell abrode. 

Eight in the middest of that Paradise 

There stood a stately mount, on whose round top 

A gloomy grove of mirtle trees did rise, 

Whose shady boughes sharp Steele did never lop, 

Nor wicked beastes their tender buds did crop, 

]3ut like a girlond compassed the hight. 

And from their fruitfull sydes sweet gum^ did drop, 

That all the ground, with pretious deaw bedight, 

Threw forth most dainty odours and most sweet delight* 

And in the thickest covert of that shade 

There was a pleasant arber, not by art 

But of the trees owne inclination made. 

Which knitting their rancke braunches part to part, 

With wanton y vie- twine entrajdd athwart, 

And eglantine and caprifole emong, 

Fashiond above within their inmost part, 

That nether Phccbus beams could through them throng 

Nor Aeolus sharp blast could worke them any wrong. 



THE PAEEIE QUEENE. 341 

And all about grew every sorte of flowre. 

To which sad lovers were transformde of yore; 

Fresh Hyacinthus, Phoebus paramoure 

And dearest love ; 

Foolish Narcisse, that likes the watry shore; 

Sad Amaranthus, made a flowre but late. 

Sad Amaranthus, in whose purple gore 

Me seemes I see Amintas wretched fate, 

To whom sweet poets verse hath given endless date. 

There wont fayre Venus often to enioy 

Her deare Adonis ioyous company, 

And reap sweet pleasure of the wanton boy: 

There yet, some say, in secret he does ly. 

Lapped in flowres and pretious spycery, 

By her hid from the world, and from the skill 

Of Stygian gods, which doe her love envy: 

But she herselfe, whenever that she will, 

Possesseth him, and of his sweetnesse takes her fill : 

And sooth, it seemes, they say ; for he may not 

For ever dye, and ever buried bee 

In bale full night where all thinges are forgot j 

All be he subiect to mortalitie. 

Yet is eterne in mutabilitie. 

And by succession made perpetuall, 

Transformed oft, and chaunged diverslie : 

For him the father of all formes they call ; 

Therefore needs mote he live, that living gives to all. 

There now he liveth in eternal blis, 

loying his goddesse, and of her enioyd ; 

Ne feareth he henceforth that foe of his, 

Which with his cruell tuske liim deadly cloyd : 

For that wild bore, the which him once annoy d. 

She firinely hath emprisoned for ay, 

(That her sweet love his malice mote avoyd,) 

In a strong rocky cave, which is, they say, 

Hewcn underneath that mount, that none him loscn mayt 

There now he lives, in everlasting ioy, 

With many of the gods in company 

Which thcthor haunt, and with the winged boy. 

Sporting himselfe in safe felicity: 

AYho when he hath with spoiles and cruelty 

Eansackt the world, and in the wofuU harts 

Of many wretches set his triumphes hye, 

Thether resortes, and, laying his sad dartes 

Asyde, with faire Adonis playcs his wanton partes. 



842 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

And liis trew love faire Psj'-clie with liim playes, 
Payre Psyche to him lately reconcyld. 
After long troubles and unmeet upbrayes, 
With which his mother Venus her revyld, 
And eke himselfe her cruelly exyld : 
But jiow in stedfast love and happy state 
She with him lives, and hath him borne a chyld. 
Pleasure, that doth both gods and men aggrate, 
Pleasure, the daughter of Cupid and Pysche late. 

H ether great Venus brought this infant fayre 

The younger daughter of Chrysogonee, 

And unto Psyche with great trust and cars 

Committed her, yfostered to bee 

And trained up in trew feminitee : 

Who no lesse carefully her tendered 

Then her owne daughter Pleasure, to whom shoe 

Made her companion, and her lessoned 

In all the lore of love and goodly womanhead. 

In which when she to perfect ripeness grew. 

Of grace and beautie noble paragone, 

She brought her forth into the world es vew. 

To be th' ensample of true love alone, 

And lodestarre of all chaste aiFectione 

To all fajrre ladies that doe live on grownd, 

To Faery court she came ; where many one 

Admyrd her goodly haveour, and fownd 

His feeble hart wide launched with loves cruel wownd. 

But she to none of them her love did cast, 

Save to the noble knight Sir Scudamore, 

To whom her loving bart she linked fast 

In faithfull love, t' abide for evermore ; 

And for his dearest sake endured sore. 

Sore trouble of an hainous enimy. 

Who her Avould forced have to have forloro 

Her former love and stedfast loialty: 

As ye may elsewhere reade that ruefuU history. 

-But well I weene ye first desire to learne 

What end unto thkt fearefull damozell, 

Which fledd so fast from that same foster stcarne 

Whom with his brethren Timias slew, befell : 

That was, to weet, the goodly Florimell ; 

Who wandring for to seeke her lover deare. 

Her lover deare, her dearest Marinell, 

Into misfortune fell, as ye did heare, 

And from Prince Arthure lied with wings of idle fearo. 



THE FA££IE QT7EEKE. 3ii2 



CANTO vn. 

The witches sonne loves Florimell ; 

She flyes ; he faines to dy. 
Satyrane saves the Squyre of Dames 

From gyaunts tyranny. 

Like as an hynd forth, singled from the heardt 

That hath escaped from a ravenous beast, 

Yet flyes away of her owne leete afeard ; 

And every leafe, that shaketh with the lease 

Murmure of winde, her terror hath encreast : 

So fledd fay re Florimell from her vaine feare, 

Long after she from perill was releast : 

Each shade she saw, and each noyse she did heare, 

•Did seeme to be the same which she escapt whileare. 

All that same evening she in flying spent, 
And all that night her course continewed : 
Ne did she let dull sleepe once to relent 
Nor wearinesse to slack her hast, but fled 
Ever alike, as if her iormer dred 
Were hard behind, her ready to arrest : 
And her white palfrey, having conquered 
The maistring rames out of her weary wrest. 
Perforce her carried where ever he thought best. 

So long as breath and hable puissaunce 

Did native corage unto him supply. 

His pace he ireshly forward did advaunce. 

And carried her beyond all ieopardy ; 

But nought that wanteth rest can long aby : 

He, having through incessant traveill spent 

His force, at last perforce adowne did ly 

Ne loot could furtlicr move : the lady gent 

Thereat was suddein strook with great astonishment ; 

And, forst t' alight, on foot mote algates fare 

A traveiler unwonted to such way ; 

Need teachcth her this lesson hard and rare, 

That Fortune all in equall launce doth sivaT/^ 

And mortall miseries doth make her play. 

So long she traveild, till at length she came 

To an hilles side, which did to her bewray 

A litle valley subiect to the same, 

All coverd with thick woodes that quite it overcame. 



344 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

Tlirougli th' tops of the higli trees slie did descry 

A little smoke, wliose vapour thin and light 

Keeking aloft uprolled to the sky : 

Which chearefuill signe did send unto her sight 

That in the same did wonne some living wight. 

Eftsoones her steps she thereunto applyd, 

And came at last in weary wretched plight 

Unto the place, to which her hope did guyde 

To finde some refuge there, and rest her wearie sydo. 

There in a gloomy hollow glen she found 
A little cottage, built of stick es and reedes 
In homely wize, and wald with sods around ; 
In which a witch did dwell, in loathly w eedes 
And wHfuU want, all carelesse of her needes ; 
So choosing solitarie to abide 
Far from all neighbours, that her divelish deedes 
And hellish arts from people she might hide. 
And hurt far off unknowne whomever she envide. 

The damzell there arriving entred in ; 

Where sitting on the flore the hag she found 

Busie (as seem'd) about some wicked gin : 

Who, soone as she beheld that suddeine stound. 

Lightly upstarted from the dustie ground. 

And with fell looke and hollow deadly gaze 

Stared on her awhile, as one astound, 

Ne had one word to speake for great amaze ; 

But shewd by outward signes that dread her sence did dazew 

At last, turning her feare to foolish wrath. 

She askt. What devill had her thether brought, 

And who she was, and what unwonted path 

Had guided her, imwelcomed, unsought ? 

To which the damzell full of doubtfull thought 

Her mildly answer'd ; *' Beldame, be not wroth 

With silly virgin, by adventure brought 

Unto your dwelhng, ignorant and loth. 

That crave but rowme to rest while tempest overblo'th.** 

With that adowne out of her christall eyne 

!Few trickling teares she softly forth let fall. 

That like two orient perles did purely shyne 

Upon her snowy cheeke ; and therewithal! 

She sighed soft, that none so bestiall 

I^or salvage hart but ruth of her sad plight 

Would make to melt, or piteously appall ; 

And that vile hag, all were her whole delight 

In mischiefe, was much moved at so pitteous sight; 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 845 

And gan recomforfc her, in lier rude wyse. 

With womanish compassion of her plaint. 

Wiping the teares from her sufiused eyes. 

And bidding her sit downe to rest her faint ^ 

And wearie hmbes awhile : she nothing quaint 

Nor 'sdeignfuU of so homely fashion, 

Sith brought she was now to so hard constraint. 

Sate downe upon the dusty ground anon ; 

As glad of that small rest, as bird of tempest gon. 

Tho gan she gather up her garments rent. 
And her loose lockes to dight in order dew 
With golden wreath and gorgeous ornament ; 
Whom such whenas the wicked hag did vew, 
She was astonisht at her heavenly hew. 
And doubted her to deeme an earthly wight, 
But or some goddesse, or of Dianes crew. 
And thought her to adore with humble spright : 
T* adore thing so divine as beauty were but right. 

This wicked woman had a wicked sonne. 

The comfort of her age and weary dayes, 

A laesy loord, for nothing good to donne. 

But stretched forth in ydlenesse alwayes, 

Ne ever cast his mind to covet prayse. 

Or ply himselfe to any honest trade ; 

But all the day before the sunny rayes 

He us'd to slug, or sleepe in slothfull shade : 

Such laesienesse both lewd and poor attonce him made. 

He, comming home at undertime, there found 

The fayrest creature that he ever saw 

Sitting beside his mother on the ground ; 

Tiie sight w^hereof did greatly him adaw. 

And his base thought with terrour and with aw 

So inly smot, that as one, which hath gaz'd 

On the bright sunne unw^ares, doth soone withdraw 

His feeble eyne with too much brightnes daz'd ; 

So stared he on her, and stood long while amaz'd. 

Softly at last he gan his mother aske, 

What mister wight that was, and whence derived. 

That in so straunge disguizement there did maske. 

And by what accident she there arriv'd ? 

But she, as one nigh of her wits deprived. 

With nought but ghastly lookes him answered; 

Like to a ghost, that lately is reviv'd 

From Stygian shores w^here late it wandered: 

So both at her, and each at other wondered. 



846 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

But tlie fa3rre vii'gm was so me eke and myld. 

That she to them vouchsafed to embace 

Her goodly port, and to their senses vyld 

Her gentle speach apply de, that in short space 

She gre\r familiare in that desert place. 

During Vvhich time the chorle, through her so kind 

And courteise use, conceiv'd affection bace. 

And cast to love her in his brutish mind ; 

No love, but brutish lust, that was so beastly tind. 

Closely the wicked flame his bowels brent. 

And shortly grew into outrageous fire ; 

Yet had he not the hart, nor hardiment, 

As unto her to utter his desire ; 

His caytive thought durst not so high aspire: 

But with soft sighes and lovely semblaunces 

He ween'd that his affection entire 

She should aread ; many resemblaunces 

To her he made, and many kinde remembraunces- 

Oft from the forrest wildings he did bring, 

Whose sides empurpled were with smyling red ; 

And oft young birds, which he had taught to sing 

His maistresse praises sweetly caroled : 

Girlonds of flowres sometimes for her faire lied 

He fine would dight ; sometimes the squirrel wild 

He brought to her in bands, as conquered 

To be her thrall, his fellow-servant vild : 

All which she of him tooke with countenance meeke and mild* 

But, past a while, when she fit season saw 

To leave that desert mansion, she cast 

In secret wize herself e thence to withdraw, 

For feare of mischiefe, which she did forecast 

Might by the witch or by her sonne compast ; 

Her wearie palfrey, closely as she might, 

Now well recovered after long repast, 

In his proud furnitures she freshly dight, 

His late miswandred wayes now to remeasure right. 

And earely, ere the dawning day appear' d, 

She forth issewed, and on her iourney went ; 

She went in perill, of each noyse affeard 

And of each shade that did itselfe present ; 

For still she feared to be overhent 

Of that vile hag, or her uncivile sonne; 

Who when, too late awaking, well they kent 

That their fayre guest was gone, they both begonne 

To make exceeding mone as they had beene undonne. 



THE FAEBIE QTJEENE. 317 

But tliat lewd lover did the most lament 

Eor her depart, that ever man did lieare ; 

He knockt his brest with desperate intent, ^ 

And scratcht his face, and with his teeth did tearo 

His ragged flesh, and rentjiis ragged heare : 

That his sad mother seeing hh sore plight 

Was greatly woe-begon, and gan to feare 

Least his fraile senses were emperisht quight, 

And love to frenzy turndj sith love is franticke hight. 

All wayes shee songht him to restore to plight. 

With herbs, with charms, wi-th counsel, and with teares*; 

33at tears, nor charms, nor herbs, nor counsel! might 

Asswage the fury which his entrails teares : 

So strong is passion that no reason heares ! 

Tho, when all other he! pes she saw to faile, 

She turnd herselfe backe to her wicked leares; 

And by her divelish arts thought to prevaile 

To bring her backe againe, or worke her final bale. 

Eftsoones out of her hidden cave she cald 

An hideous beast of horrible aspect, 

That could the stoutest cor age have appald ; 

Monstrous, mishapt, and all his backe was spect 

With thousand spots of colours queint elect ; 

Thereto so swifte that it all beasts did pas : 

Like never yet did living eie detect ; 

But likes t it to* an hyena was 

That feeds on wemens flesh, as others feede on gra«. 

It forth she cald, and gave it streight in charge 
Through thicke and thin her to poursew apace, 
Ke once to stay to rest, or breath at large, 
Till her he had attaind and brought in place, 
Or quite devourd her beauties scornefull grace. 
The monster, swifte as word that from her went. 
Went forth in haste, and did her footing trace 
So sure and swiftly, through his perfect sent 
And passing speede, that shortly he her overhent. 

Wliom when the fearefull damzell n!gh espide, 

JNTo need to bid her fast away to (lie ; 

That ugly shape so sore her terrihde, 

That it she shund no lesse than dread to die; 

And her flitt palfrey did so well apply 

His nimble feet to her conceived feare, 

That whilest his breath did strength to him supply. 

From perill free he her away did beare ; 

But, when his force gan faile, his pace gan wex areare. 



3i8 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

Wliicli wlienas slie perceiv'd, slie was dismayd 
At that same last extremity ful sore. 
And of her safety greatly grew afrayd : 
And now she gan approch to the sea shore. 
As it befell, that she could flie no more, 
But yield herselfe to spoile of greedinesse : 
Lightly she leaped, as a wight forlore, 
From her dull Jiorse, in desperate distresse, 
And to her feet betooke her doubtfull sickernesse. 

Kot halfe so fast the wicked Myrrha fled 

From dread of her revenging fathers hond ; 

ITor halfe so fast to save her maydenhed 

Fled fearefuU Daphne on th' ^gsean strond ; 

As Florimell fled from that monster yond, 

To reach the sea ere she of him were raught : 

For in the sea to drowne herselfe she fond, 

[Rather then of the tyrant to be caught : 

Thereto fear gave her wings, and need her corage-t aught. 

It fortuned (High God did so ordaine) 

As shee arrived on the roring shore, . 

In minde to leape into the mighty maine 

A little bote lay hoving her before. 

In which there slept a fisher old and pore. 

The whiles his nets were dr>dng on the sand : 

Into the same shee lept, and with the ore 

Did thrust the shallop from the floting strand : 

So safety fownd at sea, which she fownd not at land. 

£he monster, ready on the pray to sease, 
Was of his forward hope deceived quight; 
Ne durst assay to wade the perlous seas, ^ 
But, greedily long gaping at the sight, ^ 
At last in vaine was forst to turn his flight, 
And tell the idle tidings to his dame : 
Yet, to avenge his divehsh despight. 
He set upon her palfrey tired lame, 
And slew him cruelly ere any reskew came : 

And, after having him embowelled 

To fill his heUish gorge, it chaunst a knight 

To passe that way, as forth he travelled : 

Yt was a goodly swaine, and of great might, 

As ever man that bloody field did fight ; 

But in vain sheows, that wont yong knights bewitch, 

And courtly services, tooke no delight ; 

But rather ioyed to bee than seemen sich : 

For both to be and seeme to him was labor licli. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 34 

It Tvas to weete the good Sir Satyrane 
Tiiat raungd abrode to seek adventures wilder 
As was his wont, in forest and in plaine : 
He was all armd in rugged Steele unfilde. 
As in the smoky forge it was compilde, 
And in his scutchin bore a satyres hedd : 
He comming present, where the monster vilde 
Upon that milke-white palfreyes carcas fedd, 
Unto his reskew ran, and greedily him spedd. 

There well perceivd he that it was the horse 

Whereon faire Plorimell was wont to ride. 

That of that feend was rent without remorse : 

Much feared he least ought did ill betide 

To that faire maide, the nowre of wemens pride | 

For her he dearely loved, and in all 

His famous conquests highly magnifide: 

Besides, her golden girdle, which did fall 

From her in flight, he fownd, that did him sore apall. 

Full of sad feare and doubtfuU agony 

Fiercely he flew upon that wicked feend ; 

And with huge strokes and cruell battery 

Him forst to leave his pray, for to attend 

Himselfe from deadly daunger to defend : 

Full many wounds in his corrupted flesh 

He did engrave, and muchell blood did spend. 

Yet might not doe him die ; but aie more fresh 

And fierce he still appeared, the more he did him thresh. 

He wist not how him to despoile of life, 

Ne how to win the wished victory, 

Sith him he saw still stronger grow through strife. 

And himself weaker through infirmity : 

Greatly he grew enrag'd, and furiously 

Hurling his sword away he lightly lept 

Upon the beast, that with great cruelty 

Kored and raged to be underkept ; 

Yet he perforce him held, and strokes upon him hept. 

As he that strives to stoy a suddein flood. 
And in strong bancks his violence restraine, 
Forceth it swell above his wonted mood. 
And largely overflow the fruitfull plaine, 
That all the countrey seemes to be a maine 
And the rich furrowes flote, all quite fordonne : 
The wofull husbandman doth lowd complaine 
To see his whole yeares labor lost so soone. 
For which to God he made so many an idle boone. 
16 



.850 THE FAEEIE QUEENS. 

So liim lie held, and did tliroiigli might amate: 

So long he held him, and him bett so long, 

That at the last his fiereenes gan abate. 

And meekely stoup unto the victor strong: 

"V\Tio, to avenge the implacable wrong 

Which he supposed donne to Florimell, 

Sought by all meanes his dolor to prolong, 

Sith dint of Steele his carcas could not quell ; 

His maker with her charmes had framed him so well. 

The golden ribband, which that virgin wore 

About her sclender waste, he tooke in hand. 

And with it bownd the beast that lowd did rore 

For great despight of that unwonted band. 

Yet dared not his victor to withstand, 

But trembled like a lambe fled from the pray ; 

And all the way him followd on the strand 

As he had long bene learned to obay ; 

Yet never learned he such service till that day. 

Thus as he led the beast along the way. 

He spide far off a mighty giauntesse 

Fast flying, on a courser dapled gray, 

From a bold knight that with great hardinesse 

Her hard pursewd, and sought for to suppresse : 

She bore before her lap a dolefull squire. 

Lying athwart her horse in great distresse, 

Fast bounden hand and foote with cords of wire, 

Whome she did meane to make the thrall of her desire. 

WTiich whenas Satyrane beheld, in haste 

He lefte his captive beast at liberty. 

And crost the nearest way, by which he cast 

Her to encounter ere she passed by ; 

But she the way shund nathemore forthy. 

But forward gallopt fast ; which when he spyde, 

His mighty speare he couched warily. 

And at her ran ; she, having him descryde, 

Herselfe to fight addrest, and threw her lode aside. 

Like as a goshauke, that in foqte doth beare 

A trembling culver, having spide on hight 

An eagle that with plumy wings doth sheare 

The subtile ayre stouping with all his might, ^ 

The quarrey throwes to ground with fell despight, 

And to the batteill doth herselfe prepure : 

So ran the geauntesse unto the fight ; 

Her fyrie eyes with furious sparkes did stare. 

And with blasphemous bannes High God in peeces tare 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 351 

She caught in hand an huge great yron mace, 
Wherewith she many had of life depriv'd ; 
But, ere the stroke could seize his aymed place. 
His speare amids her sun-brode shield arriv'd ; 
Yet nathemore the Steele asonder riv'd, 
All were the beame in bignes like a mast, 
Ne her out of the stedfast sadle driv'd ; 
But, glauncing on the tempred metall, brast 
In thousand shivers, and so forth beside her past. 

Her steed did stagger with that puissaunt strooke ; 
But she no more was moved with that might 
Then it had lighted on an aged oke, 
Or on the marble pillour that is pight 
Upon the top of mount Olympus hight, 
For the brave youthly champions to assay ^ 
With burning charet wheeles it nigh to smite | 
But who that smites it mars his ioyous play. 
And is the spectacle of ruinous decay. 

Yet, therewith sore enrag'd, with sterne regard 
Her dreadfull weapon she to him addrest. 
Which on his helmet martelled so hard 
That made him low incline his lofty crest. 
And bowd his battred visour to his brest : 
Wherewith he was so stund that he n'ote rydo. 
But reeled to and fro from east to west :. 
Which when his cruell enimy espyde. 
She lightly unto him adioyned syde to syde ; 

And, on his collar laying puissaunt hand, 

Out of his wavering seat him pluckt perforse, 

Perforse him pluckt unable to withstand 

Or helpe himselfe ; and laying thwart her horse. 

In loathly wise like to a carrion corse, 

She bore him fast away : which when the knight 

That her pursewed saw, with great remorse 

He neare was touched in his noble spright. 

And gan encrease his speed as she encreast her fligliL 

Whom whenas nigh approching she espyde. 

She threw away her burden angrily ; 

For she list not the batteill to abide. 

But made herselfe more light away to fly : 

Yet lier the hardy knight perse wd so nye 

That almost in the backe he oft her strake ; 

But still, when him at hand she did espy, 

She turnd, and semblaunce of faire fight did make; 

But, when he stayd, to flight againe she did her take. 



*152 THE FAHEIE QTTEENE, 

By this tlie good Sir Satyi*ane gan waike 
Out of Lds dreame that did liim long entraunce. 
And, seeing none in place, lie gan to make 
Exceeding mone, and curst that cruell cliaunce 
T^Tiich reft from him so faire a chevisaunce : 
At length he spyde whereas that wofull squyre 
"Whom he had reskewed from captivaunce 
Of his strong foe, lay tombled in the m^Te, 
Unable to arise, or foot or hand to styre. 

To whom approching, well he mote perceive 

In that fowle plight a comelj^ personage 

And lovely face, made fit for to deceive 

Fraile ladies hart vrith loves consuming rage^ 

Now in the blossome of his freshest age : 

He reard him up and loosd his yron bands, 

And after gan inquire his parentage. 

And how he fell into that gy aunts hands, 

And who that was which chaced her along the lands. 

Then trembling yet through feare the squire bespake ; 
*' That geauntesse Argente is behight, 
A daughter of the Titans which did make 
Warre against heven, and heaped hils on hight 
To scale the skyes and put love from his right : 
Her syre Typhoeus was; who, mad through merth. 
And dronke with blood of men slaine by his might, 
Through incest her of lus owne mother Earth 
Whylome begot, being but halfe twin of that berth : 

" Eor at that berth another babe she bore ; 

To weet, the migh'tie GlljTphant, that wrought 

Great wreake to many errant knights of yore. 

And many hath to foule confusion brought. 

These twinnes, men say, (a thing far passing thought) 

"\^Tiiles in their mothers wombe enclosd they were. 

Ere they into the hghtsom world were brought. 

In fleshly lust were mingled both yfere 

And in that monstrous wise did to the world appere. 

** So liv'd they ever after in like sin, 

Gainst natures law and good behaveoure : ^ 

But greatest shame was to that maiden twin ; 

"Who, not content so fowly to devoure 

Her native flesh and staine her brothers bowre. 

Did wallow in all other fleshly myre, 

And sufired beastes her body to deflowre ; 

So whot she burned in that lustfuU fyre : 

Yet all that might not slake her scnsuall desyre : 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 353 

** But over all tlie countrie site did raunge, 

To seeke young men to quench her flaming thrust. 

And feed her fancy with delightful] chaunge : 

Whom so she fittest findes to serve her lust. 

Through her maine strength, in which she most doth trust, 

She with her bringes into a secret ile. 

Where in eternall bondage dye he must, 

Or be the vassall of her pleasures vile, 

And in all shamefull sort himselfe with her deClo^ 

** Me seely wretch she so at vauntage caught, 

After she long in waite for me did lye. 

And meant unto her prison to have brought, 

Her lothsom pleasure there to satisfye; 

That thousand deathes me lever were to dye 

Then breake the vow that to faire Columbell 

I plighted have, and yet keepe stedfastly: 

As for my name, it mistreth not to tell ; 

Call me the Sguyre of Dames : that me beseemeth wclL 

** But that bold knight, whom ye pursuing saw 

That geauntesse, is not such as she seemd, 

But a faire virgin that in martiall law 

And deedes of armes above all dames is deemd, 

And above many knightes is eke esteemd 

"For her great worth ; she Palladine is hight : 

She you from death, you me from dread, redeemd: 

JN"e any may that monster match in fight, 

But she, or such as she, that is so chaste a wight.** 

" Her well beseemes that quest,** quoth Satyrane : ^ 

** But read, thou Squyre of Dames, what vow is this. 

Which thou upon thyselfe has lately ta'ne ?'* 

" That shall I you recount," quoth he, " ywis, 

So be ye pleasd to pardon all amis. 

TJiat gentle lady whom I love and serve, 

After long suit and wearie servicis, 

Did aske me how I could her love deserve. 

And how she might be sure that I would never sw.crvow 

" I glad by any meanes her grace to gaine, 

Badd her commaund my life to save or spill : 

Eftsoones she badd me with incessaunt paino 

To wander through the world abroad at will, 

And every where, where with my power or skill 

I might doe service unto gentle dames, 

That I the same should faithfully fulfill ; 

And at the twelve monethcs end should bring their names 

And pledges, as the spoiles of my victorious games. 



354 THE FAEJttlE QUEENB. 

" So well I to faire ladies service did. 

And fouDd such favour in their loving hartes, 

That, ere the 3^eare his course had conipassid. 

Three hundred pledges for my good desai'tes, 

And thrice three himdred thanks for my good partes, 

I with me brought and did to her present: 

WTiich when she saw, more bent to eke my smartca 

Then to reward my trusty true intent. 

She gan ibr me devise a grievous punishment ; 

'* To weet, that I my traveill should resume, 

And with like labour walke the world arownd, 

JN^e ever to her presence should presume. 

Till I so many other dames had fownd, 

The which, for all the suit I could propo^vnd, 

Would me refuse their pledges to afl(:>rd, 

Eut did abide for ever chaste and sownd/* 

" Ah ! gentle squyre,*' quoth he, "tell at one word, 

How many fownd'st thou such to put in thy record P" 

" Indeed, Sir Knight," said he, " one word may tell 

All that I ever fownd so wisely staj^d. 

For onely three they were disposd so well ; 

And yet three yeares I now abrode have strayd. 

To find them out." " Mote I," then laughing sayd 

The knight, " inquire of thee what were those three 

The which thy proffred curtesie denayd ? 

Or ill they seemed sure avizd to bee, 

Or brutislily brought up, that nev r did fashions see.** 

" The first which then refused me," said hee, 
" Certes was but a common courtisane ; 
Yet flat refusd to have adoe with mee, 
Because I could not give her many a jane." 
(Thereat full hartely laughed Satyrane.) 
" The second was an holy nunne to chose. 
Which would not let me be her chappellane, 
Because she knew, she sayd, I would disclose 
Her counsell, if she should her trust in me reposeu 

" The third a damzell was of low degree. 
Whom I in countrey cottage fownd by chaunce: 
Full litle weened I that chastitee 
Had lodging in so meane a maintenaunce ; 
Yet was she fiiyre, and in her countenaunce 
Dwelt simple truth in seemely fiishion: 
Long thus I woo'd her with due observaunce. 
In hope unto my pleasure to have won ; 
But was as far at last, as when I first begon. 



THE 7AEIIIE QXTEENB* 855 

** Safe her, I never any woman found 

That chastity did for itselfe embrace. 

Bat were for other causes firme and sound ; 

Either for want of handsome time and place. 

Or else for feare of shame and fowle disgrace. 

Tlius am I hopelesse ever to attaine 

My ladies love, in such a desperate case. 

But all my dayes am like to waste in vaine, 

Seeking to match the chaste with th* imchaste ladies traine." 

"Perdy," sayd Gatyrane, "thou Squyre of Dames, 

Great labour fondly hast thou hent in hand, 

To get small thankes, and therewith many blames ; 

That may emongst Alcides labours stand." 

Thence backe returning to the former land, 

Where late he left the beast he overcame, 

Be found him nut ; for he had broke his band. 

And was returnd againe unto his dame, 

To tell what ty dings of fayre Morimell became. 



CANTO vni. 

The witch creates a snowy la- 
dy like to Florimell ; 

Who wrong'd by Carle, by Proteus 6av*d» 
Is sought by Paridell. 

So oft as I this history record. 
My hart doth melt with meere compassion, 
To thinke how causelesse of her owne accord 
This gentle damzell, whom I write upon. 
Should plonged be in such affliction 
Without all hope of comfort or reliefe ; 
That sure I weene the hardest hart of stone 
Would hardly finde to aggravate her griefe : 
For misery craves rather mercy then repriefe. 

But that accursed hag, her hostesse late. 

Had so enranckled her malitious hart, 

That she desyrd th* abridgement of her fate, 

Or long enlargement of her painefuU smart. 

Now when the beast, which by her wicked art 

Late foorth she sent, she backe retourning spyde 

Tyde with her golden girdle ; it a part 

Of her rich spoyles whom he had eargt destroyd 

She weend, and wondrous gladncs to her hart applyde : 



358 THE FAERIE QTTEEKB, 

And, with it ronning hastily to her sonne, 
Thought with that sight him much to have reliv*d j 
Who, thereby deeming sure the thing as donne, 
His former griefe with furie fresh reviv'd 
Much more than earst, and would have algates riv*d 
The hart out of his brest : for sith her dedd^ 
He surely dempt, himselfe he thought deprived 
Quite of all hope wherewith he long had fedd 
His foolish malady, and long time had misledd. 

With thought whereof exceeding mad he grew. 

And in his rage his mother would have slaine. 

Had she not fled into a secret mew, 

Where she was wont her sprightes to entertaine 

The maisters of her art: there was she faine 

To call them all in order to her ayde, 

And them conjure, upon eternall paine, 

To counsell her so carefully dismayd 

How she might heale her sonne whose senses were decayi 

Ey their advice, and her owne wicked wit. 
She there deviz*d a wondrous worke to frame. 
Whose like on earth was never framed yit ; 
That even Nature selfe envide the same. 
And grudg'd to see the counterfet should shame 
The thing itselfe : In hand she boldly tooke 
To make another like the former dame, 
Another Florimell, in shape and looke 
So lively, and so like, that many it mistooke. 

The substance, whereof she the body made, 
Was purest snow in massy mould congeald. 
Which she had gathered in a shady glade 
Of the Eiphoean hils to her reveald 
By errant sprights, but from all men conceald 
The same she tempred with fine mercury 
And virgin wex that never yet was seald. 
And mingled them with perfect vermily ; 
That like a hvely sanguine it seemd to the eye. 

Instead of eyes two burning lampes she set 

In silver sockets, shyning like the skyes. 

And a quicke moving spirit did arret 

To stirre and roll them like to womens eyes ; 

Instead of yellow lockes she did devyse 

With golden wyre to weave her curled head : 

Yet golden wyre was not so yellow thryse 

As Florimells fayre heare : and, in the stead 

Of life, she put a epright to rule the carcas dead; 



THE rAERIE QTTEENE. 357 

A wicked spriglit, yfrauglit with fawning guyle 

And fayre resemblanco above all the rest, 

Which with the Prince of Darkenes fell somewhyle 

From heavens blis and everlasting rest : 

Him needed not instruct which way were best 

Himselfe to fashion likest Florimell, 

ISTe how to speake, ne how to use his gest ; 

For he in counterfesannce did excell. 

And all the wyles of wemens vrits knew passing welL 

Him shaped thus she deckt in garments gay, 

Which Florimell had left behind her late : 

That whoso then her saw, would surely say 

It was herselfe whom it did imitate, 

Or fayrer then herselfe, if ought algate 

Might fayrer be. And then she forth her brought 

Unto her sonne that lay in feeble state ; 

Who seeing her gan streight upstart, and thouglit 

She was the ladyselfe whom he so long had sought. 

Tho, fast her clipping twixt his armes twayne, 
Extremely ioyed in so happy sight, 
And soone forgot his former sickely payne : 
But she, the more to seeme such as she hight. 
Coyly rebutted his embracement light ; 
Yet still, with gentle countenaunce, retain*d 
Enough to hold a foole in vaine delight : 
Him long she so with shadowes entertain'd, 
As her creatresse had in charge to her ordain'd i 

Till on a day, as he disposed was 

To walke the woodes with that his idole faire, 

Her to disport and idle time to pas ^ 

In th' open freshnes of the gentle aire, 

A knight that way there chaunced to repaire ; 

Yet knight he was not, but a boastfuU swaine 

That deedes of arnies had ever in despaire. 

Proud Braggadochio, that in vaunting vaine 

His glory did repose and credit did maintaine. 

He, seeing with that chorle so faire a wight 
Decked with many a costly ornament. 
Much marvelled thereat, as well he might. 
And thought that match a fowle disparagement: 
His bloody spcare eftesoones he boldly beat 
Against the silly clovvne, who dead through feare 
Fell streight to ground in great astoriiyliment: 
" Villein," sayd he, *' tliis lady ii my deare ; 
Dy, if thou it gainesay : I will away her beare/* 



858 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

The fearefull cliorle durst not gainesay nor clooe. 

But trembling stood, and yielded him the pray; 

Wiio, finding litle leasure her to wooe, 

On Tromparts steed her mounted without stay. 

And without reskew led her quite away. 

Proud man himselfe then Braggadochio deem*d, 

And next to none, after that happy day. 

Being possessed of that spoyle, which seem'd 

The fairest wight on ground and most of men esteem'd. 

But, when he saw himselfe free from poursute. 

He gan make gentle purpose to his dame 

With termes of love and lewdnesse dissolute : 

For he could well his glozing speaches frame 

To such vaine uses that him best became : 

But she thereto would lend but light regard. 

As seeming sory that she ever came 

Into his powre, that used her so hard 

To reave her honor which she more then life prefard. 

Thus as they two of kindnes treated long, 
There them by chaunce encountred on the way 
An armed knight upon a courser strong, 
Whose trampling feete upon the hollow lay 
Seemed to thunder, and did nigh affray 
That capons corage ; yet he looked grim. 
And faynd to cheare his lady in dismay, ^ 
Who seemd for feare to quake in every lim, 
And her to save from outrage meekely prayed him, 

Fiercely that straunger forward came ; and, nigh 

Approaching, with bold words and bitter threat 

Bad that same boaster, as he mote on high, 

To leave to him that lady for excheat. 

Or bide him batteill without further treat. 

That challenge did too peremptory seeme. 

And fild his senses with abashment great ; 

Yet, seeing nigh him ieopardy extreme. 

He it dissembled well, and light seemd to esteeme ; 

Saying, " Thou foolish knight, that weenst with words 

To steale away that I with blowes have wonne. 

And brought through points of many perilous swords ! 

But if thee list to see thy courser ronne, 

Or prove thyselfe ; this sad encounter shonne. 

And seeke els without hazard of thy hedd." 

At those prowd words that other knight begonne 

To wex exceeding wroth and him aredd 

To turne his steede about, or sure he should be dedd. 



THE TAEEIE QUEENE. 859 

*' Slih. then/* said Braggadocliio, " needes thou wilt 
Thy daies abridge, through proofe ofpuissaunce; 
Turne we our steeds ; that both in equall tilt 
May meete again, and each take happy chaunce.** 
This said, they both a furlongs mountenaunce 
Ketird their steeds, to ronne in even race : 
But Braggadochio with his bloody launce 
Once having turnd, no more returnd his face, 
But lefte his love to losse, and fled himselfe apace. 

The knight, him seeing flie, had no regard 

Him to poursew, but to the lady rode ; 

And, having her from Trompart lightly reard. 

Upon his courser sett the lovly lode, 

And with her fled away witliout abode : 

Well weened he, that fairest Florimell 

It was with whom in company he yode. 

And so herselfe did alwaies to him tell ; 

So made him thinke himselfe in heven that was in helL 

But Florimell herselfe was far away, 

Driven to great distresse by fortune straunge, 

And taught the carefull mariner to play, 

Sith late mischaunce had her compeld to chaungo 

The land for sea, at random there to raunge : 

Yett there that cruell queene avengenesse. 

Not satisfy de so far her to estraunge 

From courtly blis and wonted happinesse. 

Did heape on her new waves of weary wretchednesse. 

For, being fled Into the fishers bote 

For refuge from the monsters cruelty. 

Long so she on the mighty maine did flote. 

And with the tide drove forward carelesly ; 

For th' ay re was milde and cleared was the skio. 

And all his windes dan Aeolus did keepe 

From stirring up their stormy enmity. 

As pittyingio see her waile and weepe; 

But all the while the fisher did securely sleepe. 

At last when droncke with drowsinesse he woke. 
And saw his drover drive alon^ the streame. 
He was dismayd; and thrise his brest he stroke, 
For marveill of that accident extreame: 
But when he saw that blazing beauties beame. 
Which with rare light his bote did beautifye. 
He marveiid more, and thought he yet did dreamo 
Not well awakte ; or that some extasye, 
Assotted'had his sencc, or dazed was his eye. 



360 THE FAERIE QITEENB. 

Bat, wlien her well avizing liee perceiv'd 
To be no vision nor fantasticke sight, 
Great comfort of her presence he conceiv*d. 
And felt in his old corage new delight 
To gin awake, and stir his frosen spright : 
Tho rudely askte her, how she thether came ? 
" Ah !" sayd she, "father, I note read aright 
What hard misfortune brought me to this same ; 
Yet am I glad that here I now in safety ame. 

** But thou, good man, sith far in sea we bee. 
And the great waters gin apace to swell, 
That now no more we can the mayn-land see. 
Have care, I pray, to guide the cock-bote well, 
Least worse on sea then us on land befell." 
Thereat th' old man did nought but fondly grin. 
And saide, his boat the way could wisely tell: 
But his deceiptfull eyes did never lin 
To looke on her faire face and marke her snowy skin. 

The sight whereof in his congealed flesh 
Infixt such secrete sting of greedy lust. 
That the drie withered stocke it gan refresh. 
And kindled heat, that soone in flame forth brust: 
The driest wood is soonest burnt to dust. 
Budely to her he lept, and his rougli hand. 
Where ill became him, rashly would have thrust ; 
But she with angry scorne him did withstond, 
And shamefully reproved for his rudenes fond. 

But he, that never good nor maners knew, 
Her sharpe rebuke full litle did esteeme ; 
Hard is to teach an old horse amble trew : 
The inward smoke, that did before but steemo. 
Broke into open fire and rage extreme ; 
And now he strength gan adde unto his will, 
Porcyng to doe that did him fowle misseeme : 
Beastly he threwe her downe, ne car'd to spill • 
Her garments gay with scales of fish, that all did fill. 

The silly virgin strove him to withstand 

All that she might, and him in vaine revild ; 

Shee strugled strongly both with fbote and hand 

To save her honor from that villain e vilde. 

And cride to heven, from humane help exild. 

O ! ye brave knights, that boast this ladies love, 

Where be ye now, when she is nigh defild 

Of filthy wretch ! well may she you reprove 

Of falsehood or of slouth, when most it may behova 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 361 

But if that thou, Sir Satyran, didst weete. 
Or thou, Sir Peridure, her sory state, 
How soone would yea assemble many a flecte. 
To fetch from sea that ye at land lost lato ! 
Towres, citties, kin<?domes, ye would ruinate 
In your avengement and despiteous rage, 
Ne ouQ^ht your burning fury mote abate : 
But, if Sir Calidore could it i)resage, 
No living creature could his cruelty asswage. 

But, sith that none of all her knights is nyo, 

See how the heavens, of voluntary grace 

And soveraine favor towards chastity, 

Doe succor send to her distressed cace : 

So much High God doth innocence embrace I 

It fortuned, whilest thus she stifly strove, 

And the wide sea importuned long space 

With shrilling shriekes, Proteus abrode did rove. 

Along the fomy waves driving his finny drove. 

Proteus is shepheard of the seas of yore. 

And hath the charge of Neptune's mighty heard ; 

An aged sire with head all frowy hore. 

And sprinckled frost upon his deawy beard : 

Who when those pittifuU outcries he heard 

Through all the seas so ruefully resownd. 

His charett swifte in hast he thether steard, 

Which with a teeme of scaly Phocas bownd 

Was drawne upon the waves, that fomed him arownd ; 

And comming to that fishers wandring bote. 

That went at will withouten card or sayle. 

He therein saw that yrkesome sight, which smote 

Deepe indignation and compassion frayle 

Into his hart attonce : streight did he hayle 

The greedy villein from his hoped pray. 

Of which ne now did very little fayle; 

And with his stafie, that drives his heard astray. 

Him bett so sore, that life and sence did much dismay. 

The whiles the pittequs lady up did ryse, 

Ruffled and fowly raid with filthy soyle. 

And blubbred face with teares of her faire eyes ; 

Her heart nigh broken was with weary toyle, 

To save herselfe from that outrageous spoyle: 

But when she looked up, to weet what wight 

Had her from so infamous fact assoyld, 

For shame, but more for feare of his grim sight, 

Dowae in her lap she hid her face, and lowdly shright. 



362 THE FAERIE QTJEENE, 

Herselfe not saved yet from daunger dredd 

She tliouglit, but cliaung'd from one to other feare i 

Like as a fearefull partridge, that is fledd 

Prom the sharpe hauke which her attached neare, 

And fals to ground to seeke for succor theare, 

Whereas the hungry spaniells she does spye 

With greedy iawes her ready for to teare ; 

In such distresse and sad perplexity 

Was Plorimell, when Proteus she did see her by, 

Eut he endevored with speaches milde 

Her to recomfort, and accourage bold, 

Bidding her feare no more her foeman vilde, 

Nor doubt himselfe ; and who he was her told: 

Yet all that could not from affright her hold, 

Ne to recomfort her at all prevayld; 

For her faint hart was with the frosen cold 

Benumbd so inly that her wits nigh fayld, 

And all her sences with abashment quite were quayld. 

Her Tip betwixt his rugged hands he reard. 

And with his frory lips full softly kist, 

Whiles the cold ysickles from his rough beard 

Dropped adowne upon her y vory brest : 

Yet he himselfe so busily addrest, 

That her out of astonishment he wrought ; 

And, out of that same fishers filthy nest 

[Removing her, into his charet brought, 

And there with many gentle termes her fairs besought. 

But that old leachour, which with bold assault 

That beau tie durst presume to violate. 

He cast to punish for his hainous fault: 

Then tooke he him yet trembling sith of late 

And tyde behind his charet, to aggrate 

The virgin whom he had abusde so sore; 

So drag'd him through the waves in scornful state. 

And after cast him up upon the shore; 

But Elorimell with him unto his bowre he bore. 

His bowre is in the bottom of the maine, 

Under a mightie rocke gainst which doe rave 

The roring billowes in their proud disdaine. 

That with the angry working of the wave 

Therein is eaten out an hollow cave. 

That seemes rough masons hand with engines keene 

Had long while laboured it to engrave: 

There was his wonne; ne living wight was scene 

Save one old nymph, hight Panope, to keepe it cleane. 



THE FAERIE QTJEENE. 363 

Tliether lie brouglit tlie sory Florimell, 
And entertained her the best he might, 
(And Panope her entertaind eke well,) 
As an immortall mote a mortall wight. 
To winne her liking unto his delight: 
With flattering wordes he sweetly wooed her. 
And offered faire guiftes t' allure her sight ; 
Bat she both offers and the offerer 
Despysde, and all the fawning of the flatterer. 

Dayly he tempted her with this or that, 

And never sufFred her to be at rest : 

Eut evermore she him refused flat. 

And all his fained kindnes did detest ; 

So firmely she had sealed up her brest. 

Sometimes he boasted that a god he hight ; 

But she a mortall creature loved best : 

Then he would make himselfe a mortall wight; ^ 

But then she said she lov'd none but a Faery knighfc 

Then like a Faery knight himselfe he drest; 

For every shape on him he could endew: 

Then like a king he was to her exprest. 

And offred kingdoms unto her in vew 

To be his leman and his lady trew : 

But, when all this he nothing saw prevaile. 

With harder meanes he cast her to subdew, 

And with sharpe threates her often did assayle: 

So thinking for to make her stubborne corage quaylo. 

To dreadfuU shapes he did himselfe transforme: 

Now like a gyaunt ; now like to a feend; 

Then like a centaure; then like to a storme 

K-aging within the waves: thereby he weend 

Her will to win unto his wished eend: 

But when with feare, nor favour, nor with all 

He els could doe, he saw himselfe esteemd, 

Downe in a dongeon deepe he let her fall. 

And threatned there to make her his eternall thrall. 

Eternall thraldome was to her more liefe 

Then losse of chastitie, or chaunge of love : 

Dye had she rather in tormenting griefe 

Then any should of falsenesse her reprove. 

Or loosenes, that she lightly did remove. 

Most vertuous virgin ! glory be thy meed, 

And crowne of heavenly prayse with saintes above, 

Where most sweet hymmes of this thy famous deed 

Are still emongst them song, that far luy rymes ceeds 



364 THE FAERIE QTTEENB. 

Fit song of angels caroled to bee ! 
[Bub yet wkatso my feeble Muse can frame, 
Sbal be t' advance thy goodly chastitee. 
And to enroll thy memorable name 
In th' hearfc of every honourable dame, 
That they thy vertuous deedes may imitate. 
And be partakers of th}' endlesse fame. 
Yt yrkes me leave thee in this wofuU state, 
To tell of Satyrane where I him. left of late : 

Who having ended with that Squyre of Dames 
A long discourse of his adventures vayne, 
The which himselfe then ladies more defames, 
And finding not th' hyena to be slayne, 
With that same squyre retourned backe again& 
To his first way: And, as they forward went, 
They spyde a knight fayre pricking on the playno^ 
As if he were on some adventure bent, 
And in his port appeared manly hardiment. 

Sir Satyrane him towardes did addresse, 

To weet what wight he was, and what his quest: 

And, commingnigh, eftsoones he gan to gesse 

Both by the burning hart which on his brest 

He bare, and by the colours in his crest, , 

That Paridell it was : Tho to him yode. 

And, him saluting as beseemed best, 

Gan first inquire of ty dings farre abrode; 

And afterwardes on what adventure now he rode. 

Who thereto answering said ; " The tydinges bad. 

Which now in Faery Court all men doe tell, 

Which turned hath great mirth to mourning sad 

Is the late mine of proud Marinell, 

And suddein parture of faire Florimell 

To find him forth :. and after her are gone 

All the brave knightes, that doen in armes excell. 

To savegard her y wandred all alone ; 

Emongst the rest my lotfc (unworthy) is to be one.** 

" Ah ! gentle knight," said then Sir Satyrane, 
" Thy labour all is lost, I greatly dread, 
That hast a thanklesse service on the ta'ne. 
And offrest sacrifice unto the dead : 
For dead, I surely doubt, thou maist aread 
Henceforth for ever Florimell to bee ; 
That all the noble Knights of Maydenhead, 
Which her ador'd, may sore repent with mee. 
And all faire ladies may for ever sory bee." 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 365 

Which wordes when Paridell had heard, his hew 

Gan greatly chamig, and seemd dismaid to bee: 

Then sayd; " Fay re sir, how may I weene it trew. 

That ye do tell in such uncerteintee ? 

Or speake ye of report, or did ye see 

Inst cause of dread, that makes ye doubt so sore? 

For perdie elles how mote it ever bee. 

That ever hand should dare for to engore ^ 

Her noble blood ! The hevens such crueltie abhore. 

" These eyes did see that they will ever rew 

T'have scene," quoth he, '* whenas a monstrous beast 

The palfrey whereon she did travell slew, 

And of his bowels made his bloody feast: 

Which speaking token sheweth at the least 

Her certein losse, if not her sure decay: 

Besides, that more suspicion encreast, 

I found her golden girdle cast astray, 

Distaynd with durt and blood, as relique of the pray.** 

" Ah me !" said Paridell, ** the signes be sadd; 
And, but God turne the same to good soothsay. 
That ladies safetie is sore to be dradd: 
Yet will I not forsake my forward way, 
Till triall doe more certeine truth bewray." 
" Faire sir," quoth he, " well may it you succeed ! 
Ne long shall Satyrane behind you stay; 
Eut to the rest, which in this quest proceed. 
My labour adde, and be partaker of their speed.** 

** Ye noble knights," said then the Squyre of Dames, 

"Well may yee speede in so praiseworthy payne ! 

But sith the sunne now ginnes to slake his beames 

In deawy vapours of the westerne mayne. 

And lose the teme out of his weary wayne. 

Mote not mislike you also to abate 

Your zealous hast, till morrow next againe 

Both light of heven and strength of men relate: 

Which if ye please, to yonder castle turne your gate.** 

That counsell pleased well; so all yfero 

Forth marched to a castle them before; 

Where soone arriving they restrained were 

Of ready entraunce, which ought evermore 

To errant knights be commune: Wondrous sore 

Thereat displeased they were, till that young squyre 

Gan them informe the cause why that same dore 

Was shut to all which lodging did desyre: 

The which to let you weet will further time requyro. 



856 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 



CANTO IX. 

Malbecco will no straunge Knights host* 

For peevish gealosy: 
Paridell giusts with Britomartr 

Both shew their auncestry. 

Kedoubted kniglits and Honorable dames. 

To whom I levell all my labours end, 

Biglit sore I feare least with, unworthy blamea 

This odious argument my rymes should shend 

Or ought your goodly patience offend. 

Whiles of a wanton lady I doe write, 

Which with her loose incontinence doth blend 

The shyning glory of your soveraine light; 

And knighthood fowle defaced by a faithlesse knight* 

!But never let th* ensample of the bad 

Offend the good : for good, by paragone 

Of evill, may more notably be rad ; 

As white seemes fayrer macht with blacke attonc: 

Ne all are shamed by the fault of one : ^ 

For lo ! in heven, whereas all goo dues is 

Emongst the angels, a whole legione 

Of wicked sprightes did fall from happy blis ; 

What wonder then if one, of women all, did mis. 

Then listen, lordlings, if ye list to weet 
The cause why Satyrane and Paridell 
Mote not be entertaynd, as seemed meet. 
Into that castle, as that squyre does tell. 
*' Therein a cancred crabbed carle does dwell. 
That has no skill of court nor courtesie, 
ISTe cares what men say of him ill or well : 
For all his dayes he drownes in privitie, 
Yet has full large to live and spend at libertie. 

** !But all his mind is set on mucky pelfe, 

To hoord up heapes of evill-gotten masse, 

For which he others wrongs, and wreckes himselfes 

Yet is he lincked to a lovely lasse. 

Whose beauty doth her bounty far surpasse ; 

The which to him both far unequall yeares 

And also far unhke conditions has ; 

For she does ioy to play emongst her peares, 

And to be free from hard restraynt and gealous fearer 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 5567 

'* But he is old, and withered like hay. 

Unfit faire ladies service to supply ; 

The privie ^uilt whereof makes him alway 

Suspect her truth, and keepe continuall spy 

Upon her with his other blincked eye ; 

Ke suffreth he resort of living wight 

Appro ch to her, ne keep her company, 

But in close bowre her mewes from all mens sight, 

Depriv'd of kindly ioy and natural) d Jight. 

" Malbecco he, and Hellenore she hight ; 

Unfitly yokt together in one teeme. 

That IS the cause why never any knight 

Is suiFred here to enter, but he seeme 

Such as no doubt of him he need misdeeme.*' 

Thereat Sir Satyrane gan smyle, and say ; 

*' Extremely mad the man I surely deeme 

That weencs, with watch and hard restraynt, to stay 

A womans will which is disposed to go astray. 

" In vaine he feares that which he cannot shonne : 

For who wotes not, that womans subtiltyes 

Can guylen Argus, when she list misdonne? 

It is not j^ron bandes, nor hundred eyes 

Nor brasen walls, nor many wakeful! spyes, 

That can withhold her wilfuU-wandring feet; 

But fast goodwill, with gentle courtesyes, 

And timely service to her pleasures meet, 

May her perhaps containe that else would algates fleet.'* 

** Then is he not more mad," sayd Paridell, 

"That hath himselfe unto such service sold, 

In dolefull thraldome all his dayes to dwell ? 

For sure a f'oole I doe him firmely hold, 

That loves his fetters, though they were of goli 

But why doe wee devise of others ill, 

Whyles thus we suffer this same dotard old 

To keepe us out in scorne, of his owne will. 

And rather do not ransack all, and himselfe killP" 

** Nay, let us first," sayd Satyrane, " entreat 
The man by gentle meanes, to let us in ; 
And afterwardes affray with cruell threat, 
Ere that we to efforce it doe begin : 
Tiien, if all fayle, we will by force it win, ^ 
And eke reward the wretch for his mesprise, 
As may be worthy of his hay nous sin." 
That counsell pleasd : Then Paridell did rise, 
And to the castle-gate approcht in quiet wise : 



368 * THE FAERIE QtJEENE, 

Whereat soft knocking^, entrance lie desyrd. 

The good man selfe, which then the porter playd. 

Him answered, that all were now retyrd 

Unto their rest, and all the kej^es convayd 

Unto their maister who in bed was layd, 

That none him durst awake out of his dreme; 

And therefore them of patience gently prayd. 

Then Paridell began to chaunge his theme. 

And threatned him with force and punishment extreme. 

Eut all in vaine ; for nought mote him relent : 

And now so long before the wicket fast 

They way ted, that the night was forward spent, 

And the faire welkin fowly overcast 

Gan blowen up a bitter stormy blast, 

"With showre and hayle so horrible and dred, 

That this faire many were compeld at last 

To fly for succour to a little shed. 

The which beside the gate for swyne was ordered. 

It fortuned, soone after they were gone. 
Another knight, '^^^hom tempest thether brought. 
Came to that castle, and with earnest mone. 
Like as the rest, late entrance deare besought j 
But, like so as the rest, he prayd for nought ; 
For flatly he of entrance was refusd : 
Sorely thereat he was displeasd, and thought 
How to avenge himselfe so sore abusd. 
And evermore the carle of courtesie accusd. 

But, to avoyde th* intollerable stowre, 

He was compeld to seeke some refuge neare. 

And to that shed, to shrowd him from the showre, 

He came, which full of guests he found whyleare. 

So as he was not let to enter there : 

Whereat he gan to wex exceeding wroth, 

And swore that he would lodge with them yfere 

Or them dislodg, all were they liefe or loth ; 

And so defyde them each, and so defyde them botlu 

Both were full loth to leave that needful! tent. 
And both full loth in darkenesse to debate; 
Yet both full liefe him lodging to have lent. 
And both full liefe his boasting to abate : 
But chiefely Paridell his hart did grate 
To heare him threaten so despightfullj, 
As if he did a dogge in kenell rate 
That durst not barke : and rather had he dy 
Then, when he was defyde, in coward corner ly» 



THE FAERIE QUEENS. 369 

TIio, hastily remounting to liis steed. 

He forth issew'd ; like as a boystrous winde, 

Which in th' earthes hollow caves hath long ben hid 

And shut up fast within her prisons blind, 

Makes the huge element, against her kinde. 

To move and tremble as it were aghast, 

Untill that it an issew forth may finde ; 

Then forth it breakes, and with his furious blast 

Confounds both land and seas, and skyes doth overcast. 

Their steel-hed speares they strongly coucht, and met 

Together with impetuous rage and forse. 

That with the terrour of their fierce affret 

They rudely drove to ground both man and horse. 

That each awhile lay like a sencelesse corse. 

But Paridell sore brused with the blow 

Could not arise, the counterchaunge to scorse; 

Till that young squyre him reared from below ; 

Then drew he his bright sword, and gan about him throw. 

But Satyrane forth stepping did them stay, 
' And with faire treaty pacifide their yre : 
Tlien, when they were accorded from the fray. 
Against that castles lord they gan conspire. 
To heape on him dew vengeaunce for his hire. 
They beene agreed, and to the gates they goe 
To burn the same with unquenchable fire. 
And that uncurteous carle, their commune foe, 
To doe fowle death to die, or wrap in grievous fo«, 

Malbecco seeing them resolvd in deed 
To flame the gates, and hearing them to call 
For fire in earnest, ran with fearfull speed. 
And, to them calling from the castle wall, 
Besought them humbly him to oeare withall. 
As ignorant of servants bad abuse 
And slacke attendaunce unto straungers call. 
The knights were willing all things to excuse. 
Though nought belev'd, and entraunce late did not refuse, 
« 

They beene ybrought into a comely bowre, 
And servd of all things that mote needfull bee g 
Yet secretly their hoste did on them lowre. 
And welcomde more for feare than charitee ; 
But they dissembled what they did not see, 
And welcomed themselves. Each gan undight 
Their garments wett, and weary armour free, 
To dry themselves by Yulcanes flaming light. 
And eke their lately "bruzed parts to bring in plight. 



870 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

And eke that strauncrer Imiglit emongst tlie rest 

Was for like need enforst to disaray : 

Tho, whenas vailed was lier lofty crest, 

Her golden locks, tliat were in traniells gay 

Upbounden, did themselves adowne display 

And raught nnto her heeles ; like sunny beames, 

That in a cloud tbeir light did long time stay, 

Their vapour vaded, shewe their golden gleam es, [streames. 

And through the persant aire shoote forth their azure 

Shee also dofte her heavy haberieon, 

Which the fiiire feature of her Hmbs did hyde ; 

And her Trell-plighted frock, which she did won 

To tucke about her short when she did ryde, 

Shee low let fall, that flowd from her lanck syde 

Powne to her foot with carelesse modestee. 

Then of them all she plainly was espyde 

To be a woman-wight, unwist to bee. 

The fairest woman- wight that ever eie did see. 

Like as Bellona (being late returnd 

From slaughter of the giaunts conquered ; 

Where proud Encelade, whose wide nosthrils burnd 

With breathed flames Hke to a furnace redd. 

Transfixed with her speare downe tombled dedd 

From top of Hemus by him heaped hye ;) 

Hath loosd her helmet from her lofty hedd. 

And her Gorgonian shield gins to untye 

From her lefte arme, to rest in glorious victorye. 

Which whenas they beheld, they smitten were 
With great amazement of so wondrous sight ; 
And each on other, and they all on her, 
Stood gazing ; as if suddein^reat affright 
Had them surprizd : At lasi aviziog right 
Her goodly personage and glorious hew. 
Which they so much mistooke, they tooke delight 
In their first error, and yett still anew 
With wonder of her beauty fed their hongry vew: 

• 

Yet n'ote theu' hongry vew be satisfide, 

But, seeing, still the more desir'd to see. 

And ever firmely fixed did abide 

In contemplation of divinitee : 

But most they mervaild at her chevalree 

And noble prowesse which they had approved. 

That much they faj'nd to know who she mote beei 

Yet none of all them her thereof amov'd ; 

Yet every one her hkte, and every one her lov'd. 



1*HE FAEHIB QUEENB. 371 

And Paridell, thougli partly discontent 
With Lis late fall and fowle indignity. 
Yet was soone wonne his malice to relent, 
Through gracious regard of her faire eye, 
And knightly worth, which he too late did try. 
Yet tried did adore. Supper was dight ; 
Then they Malbecco prayd of courtesy, 
Til at of his lady they might have the sight 
And company at meat, to do them more delight, 

But he, to shifte their curious request, 

Gan causen why she could not come in place ; 

Her erased helth, her late recourse to rest. 

And humid evening ill for sicke folkes cace : 

But none of those excuses could take place ; 

Ne would they eate, till she in presence came : 

Shee came in presence with right comely grace. 

And fairely them saluted, as became. 

And shewd herselfe in all a gentle courteous dame. 

They sate to meat ; and Satyrane his chaunce 
Was her before, and Paridell beside ; 
But he himselfe sate looking still askaunce 
Gainst Britomart, and ever closely eide ^ 
Sir Satyrane, that glaunces might not glide: 
But his blinde eie, that sided Paridell, 
All his demeasnure from his sight did hide : 
On her faire face so did he feede his fill, 
And sent close messages of love to her at will : 

And ever and anone, when none was ware. 
With speaking lookes, that close embassage bore. 
He rov'd at her, and told his secret care ; 
For all that art he learned had of yore : 
Ne was she ignoraunt of that lend lore. 
But in his eye his meaning wisely redd. 
And with the like him aunswerd evermore : 
Shee sent at him one fyrie dart, whose hedd 
Empoisned was with privy lust and gealous dredd. 

He from that deadly throw made no defence. 
But to the wound liis weake heart opened wyde: 
The wicked engine through false influence 
Past through his eies, and secretly did glyde 
Into his heart, which it did sorely gryde. 
But nothing new to him was that same paine, 
Ne paine at all ; for he so ofte had tryde 
The po^yre thereof, and lov'd so oft in vaine. 
That thing of course he counted, love to entertaine. 



372 THE FAEBIE QTTEENE. 

Tliencefortli to her lie souglit to intimate 

His inward griefe, by meanes to liim well knowne s 

Now Bacchus fruite out of the silver plate 

He on the table dasht, as overthrowne. 

Or of the fruitfull liquor overflowne ; 

And by the daunciiig bubbles did divine, 

Or therein write to let his love be showne ; 

Which well she redd out of the learned line : 

A sacrament prophane in mistery of wine. 

And, whenso of his hand the pledge she raught, 
The guilty cup she fained to mistake. 
And in her lap did shed her idle draught. 
Shewing desire her inward flame to slake. 
By such close signes they secret way did make 
Unto their wils, and one eies watch escape : 
Two eies him needeth, for to watch and wake, 
"VVho lovers will deceive. Thus was the ape. 
By their faire handling, put into jVIalbeccoes cape. 

!N'ow, when of meats and drinks they had their fill. 

Purpose was moved by that gentle dame 

Unto those knights adventurous, to tell 

Of deeds of armes which unto them became. 

And every one his kindred and his name. 

Then Paridell, in whom a kindly pride 

Of gratious speach and skill his words to frame 

Abounded, being glad of so fitte tide 

Him to commend to her, thus spake, of al well aide* 

*' Troy, that art now nought but an idle name. 

And in thine ashes buried low dost lie. 

Though whilome far much greater then thy fame, 

Before that angry Gods and cruell skie 

Upon thee heapt a direful destinie ; 

What boots it boast thy glorious descent, 

And fetch from heven thy great genealogie, 

Sith all thy worthie prayses being blent 

Their ofspring hath embaste, and later glory shent! 

" Most famous worthy of the world, by whome 
That warre was kindled which did Troy inflame. 
And stately towres of Dion whilome 
Brought unto balefuU mine, was by name 
JSir Paris far renownd through noble fame. 
Who, through great prowesse and boldhardinesse^ 
Prom Lacedaemon fetcht the fayrest dame 
That ever Greece did boast, or knight possesse, 
Whom Venus to him gave for meed of worthinesse ; 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 373 

"Fayre Helene, flowre of beautie excellent. 

And girlond of the mighty conquerours, 

That madest many ladies deare lament 

The heavie losse of their brave paramours, 

Which they far off beheld from Trojan toures, 

And saw the fieldes of faire Scamander strowne 

With carcases of noble warrioures, 

Whose fruitlesse lives were under furrow sowne, 

And Xanthus sandy bankes with blood all overflowne ! 

" From him my linage I derive aright, 

Who long before the ten yeares siege of Troy, 

Whiles yet on Ida he a sto>eheard hight. 

On faire Oenone got a loMy boy, 

Whom, for remembrance of her passed ioy. 

She, of his father, Parius did name ; 

Who, after Greekes did Priams realme destroy, 

Gathred the Trojan reliques sav'd from flame, 

And, with them sayling thence, to th' isle of Paros came, 

" That was by him cald Paros, which before 

Hight ISTausa ; there he many yeares did raine^ 

And built ITausicle by the Pontick shore ; 

The which he dying lefte next- in remaine 

To Paridas his sonne, 

From whom I Paridell by kin descend : 

But, for faire ladies love and glories game, 

My native soile have lefte, my dayes to spend 

In seewing deeds of armes, my lives and labors end." 

Wlienas the noble Britomart heard tell 

OF Trojan warres and Priams citie sackt, 

(The ruefull story of Sir Paridell,) 

She was empassiond at that.piteou3 act, 

With zelous envy of Greekes cruell fact. 

Against that nation, from whose race of old 

She heard that she was lineally extract : 

For noble Britons sprong from Trojans bold, 

And Troynovant was built of old Troyes ashes cold. 

Then sighing soft awhile, at last she thus : 
" O lamentable fall of famous towne. 
Which raignd so many yeares victorious. 
And of all Asie bore the soveraine crovvne, 
In one sad night consumed and thro wen downe ! 
What stony hart, that heares thy haplesse fate. 
Is not cmpierst with deepe compassiowne, 
And makes ensample of mans wretched state. 
That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late! 
17 



374 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

"Behold, sir, liow your pitifull complaint 
Hatli fownd another partner of your payne; 
For nothing may impresse so deare constraint 
As countries cause, and commune foes disdayne. 
But, if it should not grieve you backe agaj^ne 
To turne your course, I would to heare desyre 
What to Aeneas fell ; sith that men sayne 
He was not in the cities wofull fvre 
Consum'd, but did himselfe to safety retyre/' 

*' Anchyses sonne begott of Venus fayre," 

Said he, " out of the flames for safegard fled. 

And with a remnant did to sea repay re ; 

Where he, through fatall errour Iftng was led 

Pull many yeares, and weetlesse wandered 

[From shore to shore emongst the Lybick sandes, 

Ere rest he fownd : Much there he suffered. 

And many perilles past in forreine landes, 

To save his people sad from victours vengefull handcs : 

"At last in Latium he did arryve, 

Where he with cruell warre was entertaind 

Of th* inland folke, which sought him backe to drive, 

Till he with old Latinus was Gonstraind 

To contract wedlock, so the fates ordaind ; 

Wedlocke contract in blood, and eke in blood 

Accomplished ; that many deare complaind : 

The rivall slaine, the victour (through the flood 

Escaped hardly) hardly praisd his wedlock good. 

"Yet, after all, he victour did survive, 
And with Latinus did the kingdom part : 
But after, when both nations gan to strivo 
Into their names the title to coi\vart, 
His Sonne liilus did from thence depart 
With all the warhke youth of Troians bloud, 
And in long Alba plast his throne apart ; 
Where faire it florished and long time stoud, 
Till Eomulus, renewing it, to Eome removd/' 

" There ; there," said Britomart, " afresh appeard 

The glory of the later world to spring, 

And Troy againe out of her dust was reard 

To sitt in second seat of soveraine king 

Of all the world, under her governing. 

But a third kingdom yet is to arise 

Out of the Troians scattered ofspring, 

That, in all glory and great enterprise, 

Both first and second Troy shall dare to equalise. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 375 

" It Troynovant is liiglit, tliat with the waves 

Of wealthy TJiamis washed is along, 

Upon whose stubborne neck (whereat he raves 

With roring rage, and sore himselfe does throng, 

That all men feare to tempt his billowes strong,) 

She fastned hath her foot ; which stand so hy, 

That it a wonder of the world is song 

In forreine landes; and all, which passen by, 

Beholding it from farre doe think it threates the skyo. 

" The Troian Brute did first that citie fownd. 
And Hygate made the meare thereof by West, 
And Overt-gate by North : that is the bownd 
Toward the land ; two rivers bownd the rest. 
So huge a scope at first him seemed best, 
To be the compasse of his kingdomes seat : 
So huge a mind could not in lesser rest, 
Ne in small meares contain e his glory great. 
That Albion had conquered first by warlike feat.'* 

"Ah! fairest lady-knight," said Paridell, 
" Pardon I pray my heedlesse oversight. 
Who had forgot that whylome I heard tell 
From aged Mnemon; for my wits beene light. 
Indeed he said, if I remember right, 
That of the antique Trojan s to eke there grew 
Another plant, that raught to wondrous hight, 
And far abroad his mighty braunches threw 
Into the utmost angle of the world he knew. 

" Tor that same Brute, whom much he did advaunco 

In all his speacli, was Sylvius his sonne, 

Whom having slain through luckles arrowes glaunce. 

He fied for feare of that he had misdonne. 

Or els for shame, so fowle reproch to shonne ; 

And with him ledd to see an youthly trayne ; 

Where wearie wandring they long time did wonne. 

And many fortunes prov'd in th' ocean mayne. 

And great adventures found, that now were long to sayne. 

" At last by fatall course they driven were 

Into an island spatious and brode. 

The furthest North that did to them appeare : 

Which, after rest, they, seeking farre abrode. 

Found it the fittest soyle for their abode, 

Fruitfull of all thinges fitt for living foode, 

But wholy waste, and void of peoples trode, 

Save an huge nation of the geaunts broodc, 

That fed on livijig flesh, and dronck mens vitall blood. 



876 THE FAEEIE QUEEXE. 

" Whom lie, tlirougL wearie vrars and labours lonpr> 

Subuewd witli losse of many Britons bold: 

In "which the iireat Goeinag'ot of strong 

Corineus, and Coidin of Dcbon old, 

Were overthrowne and laide on th' earth full cold, 

Wliich quaked under their so hideous masse : 

A fiimous history to bee enrold 

In everlastinu- monimcnts of brasse, 

That all the antique worthies merits far did passe. 

** His workc great Troynovant, his worke is eke 

Fair Lincolne, both renowned far away ; 

That who frorri East to West will endlong seeke, 

Cannot two fairer cities find this day, 

Except Cleopolis; so lieard I say 

Old Mnemon : Therefore, Sir, I greet .you well 

Your countrey kin : and you entyrely pray 

Of pardon for the strife, which late befell 

lietwixt us both unknowne." So ended Paridell. 

33ut all the while that he these speeches spent, 

Upon his lips hong faire Dame Hellenore 

With vigilant regard and dew attent, 

Fashioning worldes of fancies evermore 

In her fraile witt, that now her quite forlore : 

The whiles unwares away her wondring eye 

And greedy eares her weake hart from her bore; 

Which he perceiving, ever privily, 

In speaking, many false belgardes at her let fly. 

So long these knightes discoursed diversly 

Of straunge affaires, and noble hardiment, 

Which they had past with mickle ieopardj'', 

That now the humid night was farforth spent, 

And hevcnly lampes were halfendeale ybrent: 

Which th* old man seeing wel, who too long thought 

Every discourse, and every argument, 

Wliich by the hours he measured, besought 

Them go to rest. So all unto their bowres were brougkt. 



THE FAEBIE QT7EENE. 877 



CANTO X. 

Paridf;!! rapeth TTellenore ; 

Jlaibecco her poiirscwes ; 
Fynds emon/^st Satyre?, whence with Iilltt 

To tarne she cloth refuse. 

The morrow next, so eoone as Plioebus lamp 

Bewrayed had the world wit'i early light, 

And fresh Aurora had the shady da'mp 

Out of the goodly heven amoved quight, ^ 

Faire Britomart and that same Faery knight 

Uprose, forth on their iourncy for to wend: 

Fut Paridell coraplaynd, that his late fight 

AVith Britoraart so sore did hirn oif'end. 

That ryde he could not till his hurts he did amend, 

vSo foorth they far'd ; but he behind them stayd 

Maulgre his host, who grud^red grivously 

To house a guest that would be needes obayd, 

And of his owne him lefte not liberty: 

Mi.^hfc wanting measure, moveth surquedry. 

Two things he feared, but the third was death; 

That fiers youngmans unruly maystery; 

His money, which he lov'd as living breath, 

And his faire wife, whom honest long he kept uneatli. 

But patience perforce; he must able 

What fortune and his fate on him will layt 

Fond is the feare that findes no remedie. 

Yet warily he watcheth every way. 

By which he feareth evill happen may; 

So th' evill thinkes by watching to prevent: 

ISe doth he suffer her, nor night nor day. 

Out of his sight herselfe once to absent : 

So doth he punish her, and eke himself torment. 

But Paridell kept better watch than hee, 

A fit occasion for his turne to flnde. 

False love ! why do men say thou canst not see. 

And in their foolish fancy fcigne thee bliude, 

That with thy charmes the sharpest siglit doest binde. 

And to thy will abuse ? Thou walkest free. 

And seest every secret of the minde; 

TJiou seest all, yet none at all sees thee : 

All that is by the workiog of thy deitee. 



378 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

So perfect in tliat art was Paridell^ 

Tliat he Malbeccoes halfen eye did wylej 

His balfen eye lie wiled wondrous well, 

And Hellenors both eyes did eke beguyle, 

[Both eyes and hart attonce, during the whyle 

That he there soiourned his woundes to heale; 

That Cupid selfe, it seeing, close did smyle 

To weet how he her love away did steale. 

And bad that none their ioyous treason should reveale. 

The learned lover lost no time nor tyde 
That least avantage mote to him afiord, 
Yet bore so faire a sayle, that none espyde 
His secret drift till her he layd abord. 
Whenso in open place and commune bord 
He fortun'd her to meet, with commune speach 
He courted her; yet bay ted every word, 
That his ungentle hoste n'ot him appeach 
Of vile ungentlenesse or hospitages breach. 

But when apart (if ever her apart 

He found) then his false engins fast he plyde. 

And all the sleights unbosomd in his hart : 

He sigh'd, he sobd, he swoownd, he perdy dyde. 

And cast himselfe on ground her fast besyde: 

Tho' when againe he him bethought to Hve, 

He wept, and wajdd, and false laments belyde. 

Saying, but if she mercie would him give. 

That he mote algates dye, yet did his death forgive^ 

And other^^hyles with amorous delights ^ 

And pleasing toyes he would her entertaine ; 

3N'ow singing sweetlj^ to surprize her spriglits, 

Kow making layes of love and lovers paine, 

Bransles, ballads, virelayes, and verses vaine ; 

Oft purposes, oft riddles, he devysd. 

And thousands like which flowed in his braine. 

With which he fed her fancy, and entysd 

To take to his new love, and leave her old despj^si 

And every where he might and everie while 

He did her service dewtifuil, and sewd 

At hand with humble pride and pleasing guile j 

So closely yet, that none but she it vewd, 

Who well perceived all, and all indewd. 

Thus finely did he his false nets dispred. 

With which he many weake harts had subdewd 

Of yore, and many had ylike misled : 

What wonder then if she were hkewise carried? 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 379 

No fort so fensible, no wals so strong, 

But that continuall battery will rive. 

Or daily siege, tkrough dispurvayaunce long 

And lacke of reskewes, will to parley drive 5 

And peece, that unto parley eare will give. 

Will shortly yield itselfe, and will be made 

The vassall of the victors will by live : 

That stratageme had oftentimes assayd 

This crafty paramoure, and now it plaine displayed. 

For through his traines he her entrapped hath. 

That she her love and hart hath wholy sold 

To him without regard of gaine, or scath. 

Or care of credite, or of husband old, 

Whom she hath vow'd to dub a fayre cucquold, 

Nought wants but time and place, which shortly shee 

Devized hath, and to her lover told. 

It pleased well : so well they both agree. 

So readie rype to ill, wemens counsels bee ! 

Darke was the evening, fit for lovers stealth. 
When chaunst Malbecco busie be elsewhere. 
She to his closet went, where all his wealth 
Lay hid; thereof she countlesse summes did reare, 
The which she meant away with her to beare ; 
The rest she fyr'd, for sport or for despight : 
As Hellene, when she saw aloft appeare 
The Troiane flames and reach to hevens hight. 
Did clap her hands, and ioyed at that doleful sight; 

The second Hellene, fayre Dame Hellenore, 
The whiles her husband ran with sory haste 
To quench the flames which she had iynd before, 
Laught at his foolish labour spent in waste^, 
And ran into her lovers armes right fast ; 
Where streight embraced she to him did cry 
And call alowd for helpe, ere helpe were past; 
For lo ! that guest did beare her forcibly, 
And meant to ravish her, that rather had to dyl 

The wretched man hearing her call for ayd, 
And ready seeing him with her to fly. 
In his disquiet mind was much dismayd : 
But when againe he backeward cast his eye. 
And saw the wicked fire so furiously 
Consume his hart, and scorch his idoles face. 
He wag therewith distressed diversely, 
Ne wist he how to turne, nor to what place : 
Was. never wretched man in such a wofuU cace. 



880 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Ay when to him she ciyde, to lier he tiirnd. 
And left the lire ; love, money overcame : 
But, when he marked how his money bm'nd. 
He left his wife; money did love disclaime : 
Both was he loth to loose his loved dame. 
And loth to leave his liefest pelfe behinde ; 
Yet, sith he no'te save both, he sav'd that same 
"Which was the dearest to his donnghill minde. 
The god of his desire, the ioy of misers blinde. 

Thus whilest all things in troublons tiprore were. 

And all men busie to suppresse the flame, 

The loving couple neede no reskew feare. 

But leasure had and liberty to frame 

Their purpost flight, free from all mens reclame ; 

And Night, the patronesse of love-stealth fayre, 

Gave them safe conduct till to end they came : 

So beene they gone jfere, sl wanton payre 

Of lovers loosely knit, where list them to repajTC. 

Soone as the cruell flames yslaked were, 

Malbecco, seeing how his losse did lye. 

Out of the flames which he had quencht whylere. 

Into huge waves of griefe and gealosye 

Pull deepe emplonged was, and drowned nye 

Twixt inward doole and felonous despight : 

He rav'd, he wept, he stampt, he lowd did cry; 

And all the passions that in man may light. 

Did him attonce oppresse, and vex his caytive spright. 

Long thus he chawd the cud of inward griefe. 

And did consume his gall with anguish sore: 

Still when he mus^d on his late mischief e. 

Then still the smart thereof increased more. 

And seemd more grievous then it was before ; 

At last when sorrow he saw booted nought, 

JSTe griefe might not his love to him restore. 

He gan devise how her he reskew m ought ; 

Ten thousand wayes he cast in his conJfused thought. 

At last resolving, like a pilgrim pore. 
To search her forth whereso she might be fond. 
And bearing with him treasure in close store. 
The rest he leaves in ground : so takes in hond 
To seeke her endlong both by sea and lend. 
Long he her sought, he sought her far and nere. 
And every where that he mote understond 
Of knightes and ladies any meetings were ; 
And of each one he mett he tidings did inguere. 



THE FAERIE QUEENB. 381 

Bafe all in vaine; Ms woman was too wis© 

Ever to come into his clouch againe, 

And hee too simple ever to surprise 

The iolly Paridell, for all his paine. ^ 

One day, as he forpassed by the plaine 

With weary pace, he far away espide 

A couple, seeming well to be his tvraine. 

Which hoved close under a forest side, 

As if they lay in wait, or els themselves did hidoi 

Well weened hee that those the same mote bee s. 

And, as he better did their shape avize, 

Him seemed more their maner did agree ; 

For th' one was armed all in warlike wize. 

Whom to be Paridell he did devize; ^ 

And th' other, al yclad in garments light 

Discolourd like to womanish disguise. 

He did resemble to his lady bright ; 

And ever his faint hart much earned at the sight : 

And ever faine he towards them would goe, 

33ut yet durst not for dread approchen nie, 

But stood aloofe, unweeting what to doe ; 

Till that prickt forth with loves extremity. 

That is the father of fowle gealosy, 

He closely nearer crept, the truth to weet : 

But, as he nigher drew, he easily 

Might scerne that it was not his sweetest sweet, 

Ne yet her Belamour, the partner of his sheet : 

But it was scomefull Braggadochio, 
That with his servant Trompart hoverd there 
•Sith late he fled from his too earnest foe : 
Whom such whenas Malbecco spyed clere, 
He turned backe, and would have fled arere ; 
Till Trompart, ronning hastely, him did stay, 
And bad before his soveraine lord appeare : 
That was him loth, yet durst he not gainesay, 
And comming him before low louted on the lay. 

The boaster at him sternely bent his browe, 

As if he could have kild him with his looke, 

That to the ground him meekly made to bowe 

And awfuU terror deepe into him strooke, 

That every member of his body quooke. ^ 

Said he, "Thou man of nought! what docst thou here, 

Unfitly furnisht with, thy bag and booke, 

Where I expected one with shield and spere, 

To prove some deedes of armes upon an equall pereP** 



382 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

The wretelied man at Ms imperious speacli 

Was all abaslit, and low prostrating said; 

" Good sir, let not my rudeness be no breach. 

Unto your patience, ne be ill ypaid ; 

"For I un wares tliis way by fortune straid, 

A silly pilgrim driven to distresse, 

Tliat seeke a lady"— There he suddein staid, 

And did the rest with grievous sighes suppresse, 

"While teares stood in his eies, few drops of bitternesse. 

*' What lady?'*—" Man," said Trompart, ''take good hart. 

And tell thy griefe, if any hidden lye : 

Was never better time to shew thy smart 

Then now that noble succor is thee by, 

That is the whole worlds commune remedy." 

That chearful word his weak heart much did cheare. 

And with vaine hope his spirits faint supply, 

That bold he sayd, *' O most redoubted Pere, 

Vouchsafe with mild regard a wretches cace to heare." 

Then sighing sore, **It is not long," saide hee, 
" Sith I enioyd the gentlest dame alive; 
Of whom a knight, (no knight at all perdee, ~ 
But shame of all that doe for honor strive,) 
!By treacherous deceipt did me deprive ; 
Through open outrage he her bore away,^ 
And with fowle force unto his wiU did drive ; 
Which al good knights, that armes do bear this day, 
Are bownd for to revenge and punish if they may. 

*' And you, most noble lord, that can and dare 

Bedresse the wrong of miserable wight. 

Cannot employ your most victorious speare 

In better quarrell then defence of right, 

And for a lady gainst a faithlesse knight : 

So shall your glory be advaunced much, 

And all faire ladies magnify your might, 

And eke myselfe, albee I simple such. 

Your worthy paine shall wel reward with guerdon rich." 

With that, out of his bouget forth he drew 

Great store of treasure, therewith him to tempt ; 

But he on it lookt scornefully askew. 

As much disdeigning to be so misdempt, 

Or a war-monger to be basely nempt ; 

And sayd : " Thy offers base I greatly loth. 

And eke thy words uncourteous and unkempt : 

I tread in dust thee and thy money both ; 

That, were it not for shame" — So turned from him wroth. 



xilE FAERIE QUEENE. 383 

But Trompart, tliat liis maistres humor knew 

In lofty looks to hide an humble minde, 

Was iiiy tickled with that golden vew, 

And in his eare him rownded close behinde, 

Yet stoupt he not, but lay still in the winde. 

Waiting adv^auntage on the pray to sease ; 

Till Trompart, lowly to the grownd inclinde, 

Besought him his great corage to appease, 

And pardon simple man that rash did him displease. 

Big looking like a doughty doucepere, 

At last he tiius ; " Thou clod of vilest clay, 

I pardon yield, and with thy rudenes beare ; 

But weete henceforth, that all that golden pray. 

And all that els the vaine world vaunten may, 

I loath as doung, ne deeme my dew reward : 

Fame is my meed, and glory vertuous pay: 

But minds of mortall men are muchell mard 

And mov'd amisse with massy mucks unmeet regard. 

*' And more ; I graunt to thy great misery 

Gratious respect ; thy wife shall backe be sent : 

And that vile knight, whoever that he bee. 

Which hath thy lady reft and knighthood shent. 

By Sanglamort my sword, whose deadly dent 

The blood hath of so many thousands shedd, 

I sweare ere long shall dearely it repent ; 

Ne he twixt heven and earth shall hide his hedd. 

But soone he shall be fownd, and shortly doen be dedd. 

The foolish man thereat woxe wondrous blith. 
As if the word so spoken were halfe donne. 
And humbly thanked him a thousand sith 
That had from death to life him newly wonne. 
Tho forth the boaster marching brave begonne 
His stolen steed to thunder furiously. 
As if he heaven and hell would over-ronne. 
And all the world confound with cruelty ; 
That much Malbecco ioyed in his iollity. 

Thus long they three together traveiled, 

Through many a wood and many an uncouth way, 

To seeke his wife, that was far wandered : 

But those two sought nought but the present pray. 

To weete, the treasure which he did bewray, 

On which their eies and harts were ^^'holly sett, , 

With purpose how they might it best betray ; 

For, sith the howre that first he did them lett 

The same behold, therwith their keene desires were whett 



384» THE FAEEIE QTJEENE, 

It fortuned, as they top:etlier far'd, 

They spide Trliere iParidell came pricking fast 

Upon the plaine, the which himselfe prepar'd 

To giust with that brave strannger knight a cast, 

As on adventure by the way he past : 

Alone he rode without his paragone ; 

Por, having filcht her bells, her up he cast 

To the wide world, and lett her fly alone ; 

He nould be clogd: so had he served many one. 

The gentle lady, loose at random lefte, 

The greene-wood long did walke, and wander wide 

At wilde adventure, like a forlorne wefte ; 

Till on a day the Satyres her espide 

Straying alone, withouten groome or guide: 

IBCer up they tooke, and with them home her ledd, 

With them as housewife ever to abide, 

To milk their gotes, and make them cheese and bredd ; 

And every one as commune good her handeled • 

That shortly she Malbecco has forgott. 
And eke Sir Paridell all were he deare; 
"Who from her went to seeke another lott. 
And now by fortune was arrived here. 
Where those two guilers wdth Malbecco were. 
Soone as the old man saw Sir Paridell, 
He fainted, and was almost dead with feare ; 
JN'e word he had to speake his griefe to tell. 
But to him louted low, and greeted goodly well; 

And, after, asked him for Hellenore : 
** I take no keepe of her," sayd Paridell, 
" She wonneth in the forrest there before." 
So forth he rode as his adventure fell ; 
The whiles the boaster from his loftie sell 
Paynd to alight, something amisse to mend ; 
Put the fresh swayne would not his leasure dwell. 
Put went his way; whom when he passed kend, 
He up remounted light, and after faind to wend. 

"Perdy nay,** said Malbecco, "shall ye not; 

Put let him passe as lightly as he came : « 

For Httle good of him is to be got, 

And mickle perill to bee put to shame. 

Put let us goe to seeke my dearest dame. 

Whom he hath left in yonder forest wyld : 

Por of lier safety in great doubt I ame, 

licast salvage beastes her person have despoyld : 

Taen all the world is lost, and we in vaine have toyld V* 




"The jolly satyrs, full of fresh delight, 
Came dancing forth, and with them nimbly ledd 
Fair Helleuore with girlonds all-despredd." 

Book III. Canto X. Ver. 44. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 385 

They all agree, and forward them addrest: 

"Ah ! but," said crafty Trompart, " weete ye well. 

That yonder in that wastefall wildernesse 

Huge monsters haunt, and many dangers dwell; 

Dragons, and minotaures, and feendes of hell, 

And many wilde woodmen which robbe and rend 

All travellers; therefore advise ye well, 

Before ye enterprise that way to wend : 

One may his iourney bring too soone to evill end.** 

Malbecco stopt in great astonishment, 
And, with pale eyes fast fixed on the rest, 
Their counsell crav'd in daunger imminent. 
Said Trompart ; " You, that are the most opprest 
With burdein of great treasure, I thinke best 
Here for to stay in safe tie behynd : 
My lord and I will search the wide forest.** 
That counsell pleased not Malbeccoes mynd; 
For he was much afraid himselfe alone to fyni 

** Then is it best," said he, "that ye doe leavo 

Your treasure here in some security. 

Either fast closed in some hollow greave. 

Or buried in the ground from ieopardy. 

Till we returne againe in safety: 

As for us two, least doubt of us ye have. 

Hence farre away wc will blyndfolded ly, 

Ne privy bee unto your treasures grave." 

It pleased ; ao he did : Then they march forward brave. 

Now when amid the thickest woodes they were. 

They heard a noyse of many bagpipes shrill, 

And shrieking hububs tliem approching nere. 

Which all the forest did with horrour fill : 

That dreadfull sound the bosters hart did thrill 

With such amazement, that in hast he fledd, 

Ne ever looked back for good or ill ; 

And after him eke fearfuU Trompart spedd : 

The old man could not fly, but fell to ground half dcdd : 

Yet afterwardes close creeping as he might. 

He in a bush did hyde his fearefull hedd. 

The iolly satyres, full of fresh delight, 

Came danncing forth, and with them nimbly ledd 

Paire Helenore with girlonds all bespredd, * 

Whom their May-lady they had newly made : 

She, proude of that new honour which they redd. 

And of their lovely fellowship full glaJc, 

Daimst lively, and her face did with a lawrell shade. 



885 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Tiie silly man tliat in tlie tMckett lay- 
Saw all tliis goodly sport, and grieved sore 3 
Yet durst be not against it doe or say, 
33ut did his hart with bitter thoughts engore. 
To see th' unkindnes of his Hellenore. 
All day they daunced with great lustyhedd. 
And with their horned feet the greene gras wore ; 
The whiles their gotes upon the bronzes fedd, 
Till drouping Phoebus gan to hyde his golden hedd. 

Tho up they gan their mery -pypes to trusse, 

And all their goodly heardes did gather rownd; 

But every satyre first did give a busse 

To Hellenore; so busses did abound. 

[Now gan the humid vapour shed the grownd 

With perly deaw, and th' earthes gloomy shade 

Did dim the brightnesse of the welkin rownd. 

That every bird and beast awarned made 

To shrowd themselves, while sleep their senses did invade. 

Which when Malbecco saw, out of the bush 

Upon his handes and feete he crept full light, 

And like a goto emougst the gotes did rush ; 

That through the helpe of his faire homes on hight. 

And misty dampe of misconceyving night. 

And eke through likenesse of his gotish beard, 

He did the better counterfeite aright: 

So home he marcht emongst the horned heard. 

That none of all the satyres him espyde or heard. 

At night, when all they went to sleepe, he vewd. 
Whereas his lovely wife emongst them lay, 
Embraced of a satyre rough and rude. 
Who all the night did mind his ioyous play : 
Nine times he heard him come ajpft ere day. 
That all his hart with gealosy did swell ; 
!But yet that nights ensample did bewray 
That not for nought his wife them loved so well, 
When one so oft a night did ring his matins bell. 

So closely as he could he to them crept. 
When wearie of their sport to sleepe they fell, 
And to his wife, that now full soundly slept. 
He whispered in her eare and did her tell, 
That it was he which by her side did dwell ; 
And therefore prayd her wake to heare him plaine. 
As one out of a drcame not waked weil^ 
She turnd her, and returned backe againe : 
Yet lier for to awake he did the more constraine. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 387 

A.t last with irkesom trouble she abrayd ; 

And then perceiving, that it was indeed 

Her old Malbecco, which did her upbrayd 

With loosenesse of her love and loatJdy deed, 

Slie was astonisht with exceeding dreed, 

And would have wakt the satyre by her syde ; 

Bat he her prayd, for mercy or for meed, 

To save his life, ne let him be descryde, 

But hearken to his lore, and all his counsell hyde. 

Tho gan he her perswade to leave that lewd 
And loathsom life, of God and man abhord, 
And home returne, where all should be renewd 
With perfect peace and bandes of fresh accord. 
And she receivd againe to bed and bord, 
As if no trespas ever had beene donne : 
Bat she it all refased at one word, 
And by no meanes would to his will be wonne. 
Bat chose emongst the iolly satyres still to wonne. 

He wooed her till day-spring he espyde ; 

Bat all in vaine : and then turnd to the heard. 

Who butted him with homes on every syde. 

And trode downe in the durt, where his hore beard 

Was fowly dight, and he of death afeard. 

Early, before the heavens fairest light 

Out of the raddy East was fully reard, 

The heardes out of their foldes were loosed quiglit, 

And he emongst the rest crept forth in sory plight. 

So soone as he the prison-dore did pas, 

He ran as fast as both his feet could beare. 

And never looked who behind him was, 

Ne scarsely who before : like as a beare, 

Tiiat creeping close amongst the hives to reare 

An hony-combe, the wakefall dogs espy, 

And him assayling sore his carkas teare. 

That hardly he with life away does fly, 

Ne stayes, till safe himselfe he see from ieopardy. 

Ne stayd he, till he came unto the place 

Where late his treasure he entombed had ; 

Where when he found it not, (for Trompart bace 

Had itpurloyned for his maister bad,) 

With extreme fary he became quite mad, 

And ran away; ran with himselfe away: 

Tliat who so straungcly had him scene bestadd, 

With upstart haire and staring eyes dismay, 

From Limbo lake him late escaped sure would say. 



388 THE FAEEIE QUEEXE. 

High over liilles and over dales lie fledd, 

As if the wind him on his winges had borne ; 

!Ne banck nor bush could stay him, when he spedd 

His nimble feet, as treading. still on thorne : 

Griefe, and Despight, and Gealosy, and Scorne, 

Did all the way him follow hard behynd ; 

And he himselfe himselfe loath'd so forlorne. 

So shamefully forlorne of womankynd : 

That, as a snake, still lurked in his wounded mynd. 

Still fled he forward, looking backward still, 
Ne stayd his flight nor fearefull agony 
Till that he came unto a rocky hill 
Over the sea suspended dreadfully. 
That living creature it would terrify- 
To looke adowne, or upward to the hight r 
From thence he threw himselfe dispiteously. 
All desperate of his fore-damned spright, 
That seemd no help for him was left in living sight. 

]3ut, through long anguish and selfe-murd ring thought. 

He was so wasted and forpined quight. 

That all his substance was consum'd to nought. 

And nothing left but like an aery sprisiht ; 

That on the rockes he fell so flit and light. 

That he thereby receiv'd no hurt at all ; 

But chaunced on a craggy cliii to light ; 

Whence he with crooked clawes so long did crall. 

That at the last he found a cave with entrance small. 

Into the same he creepes, and thenceforth there 

Hesolv'd 1o build his balefull mansion 

In drery darkenes and continuall feare 

Of that rocks fall, which ever and anon 

Threates with huge mine hhn to fall upon. 

That he dare never sleepe, but that one e^^e 

Still ope he keepes for that occasion; 

ISe ever rests he in tranquillity, 

The roring billowes beat his bowre so boystrously. 

Ne ever is he wont on ought to feed 

But todes and frogs, his pasture poysonous. 

Which in his cold complexion doe breed 

A filthy blood, or humour rancourous, 

Matter of doubt and dread suspitious, 

That doth with curelesse care consume the hart, 

Corrupts the stomacke with gall vitious, 

Cross-cuts the liver with intern all smart. 

And doth transflxe tlie soule with deathes eternall darfc 



TIIB FAERIE QTJEENE. 389 

^et can lie never dye, but dying lives, 
And dotli himselfe with, sorrow new sustaino. 
That death and life attonce unto him gives, ^ 
And painefuU pleasure turnes to pleasing paine. 
There dwels he ever, miserable swaine, 
HatefuU both to himselfe and every wight ; 
Where he, through privy griefe and horrour. 
Is woxen so deform'd, that he has quight 
Forgot he was a man, and Gelosy is hight. 



CANTO XL 

Britomart chaceth Ollyphant; 

Findes Scudamour distrest : 
Assayes the house of Busyrane, 

Where loves spoyles are exprest. 

O HATEFUL hellish, snake ! wliat furie furst 
Brought thee from balefull house of Proserpine, 
Where in her bosome she thee long had nurst, 
And fostred up with bitter milke of tine ; 
Fowle gealosy ! that turnest love divine 
To ioylesse dread, and malc'st the loving hart 
With hatefull thoughts to languish and to pino. 
And feed itselfe with selfe-consuming smart, 
Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art! 

O let him far be banished away. 

And in his stead let love for ever dwell ! 

Svveete love, that doth his golden wings embay 

In blessed nectar and pure pleasures well, 

Untroubled of vile feare or bitter fell. 

And ye, faire ladies, that your kingdomes make 

In th' harts of men, them governe wisely well. 

And of faire Britomart ensample take, 

That was as trew in love as turtle to her make. 

Who witli Sir Satyrane, as earst ye red. 

Forth ryding from Malbeccoes hostlesse hous. 

Far ofTaspyde a young man, the which fled 

From an huge geaunt, that with hideous 

And hateful outrage long him chaced thus ; 

It was that Ollyphant, the brother deare 

Of that Argante vile and vitious. 

From whom the Squyre of Dames was reft whylere; 

This all as bad as she, and worse, if worse ought were. 



890 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Por as the sister did in feminine 

And filthy lust exceede all womankindo; 

So he surpassed his sex masculine, 

In beastly use, all that I evfer finde : 

Whom T^hen as Britomart beheld behinde 

The fearefull hoj so greedily poursew, 

She was emmoved in her noble minde 

T' employ her puissaunce to bis reskew. 

And pricked fiercelj^ forward where she did him vew. 

!N"e was Sir Satyrane her far behinde, 

But with like fiercenesse did ensew the chace : 

Whom when the gyaunt saw, he soone resinde 

His former suit, and from them fled apace : 

They after both, and boldly bad him bace. 

And each did strive the other to outgoe ; 

But he them both outran a wondrous space. 

For he was long and swift as any roe, 

And now made better speed t*escape his feared foe. 

It was not Satyrane, whom he did feare, 

But Britomart, the flowre of chastity; 

[For he the powre of chaste hands might not beare. 

But alwayes did their dread encounter fly ; 

And now so fast his feet he did apply. 

That he has gotten to a forrest neare. 

Where he is shrowded in security. 

The wood they enter, and search everie where ; 

They searched diversely; so both divided were. 

Fayre Britomart so long him followed. 
That she at last came to a fountaine slieare. 
By which there lay a knight all wallowed 
Upon the grassy ground, and by him neare 
His haberieon, his helmet, and his speare : 
A little off, his shield was rudely thrown e, 
On which the winged boy in colours cleare 
Depei noted was, full easie to be knowne. 
And he thereby, wherever it in field was showne. 

His face upon the grownd did groveling ly, 
As if he had beene slombring in the shade ; 
That the brave mayd would not for courtesy 
Out of his quiet slomber him abrade, 
Nor seeme too suddeinly him to invade : 
Still as she stood, she heard with grievous throb 
Him grone, as if his hart were peeces made, 
And with most painefuU pangs to Sigh and sob. 
That pitty did the virgins hart of patience rob. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 391 

At last fortli breaking into bitter plaint es 

He sayd ; " O soverayne Lord that sit'st on liye 

And raignst in blis emongst thy blessed saintes. 

How suifrest thou such shamefull cruelty 

So lotig unwreaked of thine enimy ! 

Or hast thou, Lord, of good mens cause no lieed? 

Or doth thy iustice sleepe and silent ly? 

What booteth then the good and righteous deed, 

If goodnesse find no grace, nor righteousnesse no meed I 

'* If good find grace, and righteousnes reward, 
Why then is Amoret in caytive band, 
Sith that more bounteous creature never far*d 
On foot upon the face of living land ! 
Or if that hevenly iustice may withstand 
The wrong full outrage of unrighteous men. 
Why then is Busirane with wicked hand 
SulFred, these seven monethes day, in secret den 
My lady and my love so cruelly to pen ! 

" My lady and my love is cruelly pend 
In dolefull darkenes from the vew of day, 
Whilest deadly torments doe her chast brest rend, 
And the sharp e Steele doth rive her hart in tway. 
All for she Scudamore will not denay. 
Yet thou, vile man, vile Scudamore, art sound, 
Ne canst her ayde, ne canst her foe dismay ; 
Unwortliy wretch to tread upon the ground. 
For whom so faire a lady feeles so sore a wound." 

There an huge heape of singulfes did oppresse 
His strugling soule, and swelling throbs empeach 
His foltring toung with pangs of drerinesse. 
Choking the remnant of his plaintife speach. 
As if his dayes were come to their last reach. 
Which when she heard, and saw the ghastly fit 
Threatning into his life to make a breach, 
Both with great ruth and terrour she was smit. 
Fearing least from her cage the wearie soule wold flit. 

Tho, stouping downe, she him amoved light ; 
Who, therewith somewhat starting, up gan looke. 
And seeing him behind a stranger knight, 
Whereas no living creature he mistooke. 
With great indignaunce he tliat sight forsooke. 
And, downe againe himselfe disdainefully 
Abiecting, th' earth with his faire forhead strooke: 
Which the bold virgin seeing, gan apply 
Fit medcine to Lis griefe, and spake thus courtesly: 



392 THE FAEllIE QXJEENE. 

'* Ah ! gentle kniglit, Trhose deepe-conceived griefe 

Well seemes t'exceede the povrre of patience, 

Yet, if that herenly grace some g*ood reliefe 

You send, submit you to High Providence ; 

And ever, in j'our noble hart, prepense. 

That all the sorrow in the world is lesse 

Then vertues might and'values confidence : 

For who nill bide the burden of distresse. 

Must not here thinke to live ; for life is wretchednesse, 

" Therefore, faire sir, doe comfort to you take. 

And freely read what wicked felon so 

Hath outrag'd you, and thrald your gentle make. 

Perhaps this hand may help to ease your woe. 

And wreake your s'orrow on your cruell foe ; 

At least it faire endevour will applj^" 

Those feeling words so near the quicke did goe, 

That up his head he reared easily ; 

And, leaning on his elbowe, these few words lett fly: 

" What boots it plaine that cannot be redrest. 

And sow vaine sorrow in a fruitlesse eare ; 

Sith powre of hand, nor skill of learned brest, 

l^e worldly price, cannot redeeme my deare 

Out of her thraldome and continuall feare ! 

Por he, the tyrant, which her hath in ward, 

Py strong enchauntments and blacke magicke leare, 

Hath in a dungeon deepe her close embard, 

And many dreadfull feends hath pointed to her gard. 

** There he tormenteth her most terribly, 

And day and night afflicts with mortall paine, 

Because to yield him love she doth deny. 

One to me yold, not to be yolde againe : 

Put yet by torture he would her constrain© 

Love to conceive in her disdainful! brest : 

Till so she doe, she must in doole remaine, 

ISTe may by living meanes be thence relest : 

What boots it then to plaine that cannot be redrest !** 

With this sad hersall of his heavy stresse 

The warlike damzell was empassiond sore. 

And sayd ; " Sir knight, your cause is nothing lesse 

Then is your sorrow certes, if not more : 

For nothing so much pitty doth imploro 

As gentle ladyes helplesse misery : 

Put yet, if please ye listen to my lore, 

I will, with proofe of last extremity. 

Deliver kcr fro thence, or with her for you dy.** 



?rHE FAEEIE QUEENE. 393 

" All ! gentlest kniglit alive," sayd Scudamore, 

" What liuge heroicke magnanimity 

Dwells in thy bounteous brestP what couldst thou more, 

If shee were thine, and thou as now am I ? 

O spare thy happy daies, and them apply 

To better boot; but let me die that ought : 

More is more losse; one is enough to dy!'* 

''* Life is not lost," said she, " for which is bought 

Endlesse renowm; that, more then death, is to be sought." 

Thus she at length persuaded him to rise, 

And with her wend to see what new successe 

Mote him befall upon new enterprise : 

His armes, which he had vowed to disprofesse. 

She gathered up, and did about him dresse, 

And his forwandred steed unto him gott : 

So forth they both yfere make their progresse, 

And march, not past the mountenaunce of a shott, 

Till they arriv'd whereas their purpose they did plotfc. 

There they dismounting drew their weapons bold, 
And stoutly came unto the castle gate. 
Whereas no gate they found them to withhold, 
Nor ward to waite at morne and evening late ; 
But in the porch that did them sore amate, 
A flammg fire ymixt with smouldry smoke 
And stinking sulphure, that with griesly hate 
And dread full horror did all entraunce choke, 
Enforced them their forward footing to revoke. 

Greatly thereat was Britomart dismayd, 
!Ne in that stownd wist how herselfe to beare; 
For daunger vaine it were to have assayd 
That cruell element, which all things feare, 
Ne none can suffer to approachen neare : 
And, turning backe to Scudamour, thus sayd; 
" Wiiat monstrous enmity provoke we here? 
Foolhardy as th' earthes children, the which made 
Batteill against the gods, so we a god invadec 

"Daunger without discretion to attempt, 

Inglorious, beast-like, is : therefore, Sir Knight, 

Aread what course of you is safest dempt, 

And how we with our foe may come to light." 

"This is," quoth he, "the dolorous despight, 

Which earst to you I playnd : for neither may 

This fire be quencht by any witt or might, 

"t^e yet by any meancs remov'd away ; 

^'o mighty be th' enchauntments wluch the same do stay. 



394 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

" What is tliere ells bnfc cease these fruitlesse paines. 

And leave me to my former languisliing ! 

Paire Amorett must dwell in wicked cliaines, 

And Scudamore here die with sorrowing !'* 

" Perdy not so," saide shee ; " for shameful thing 

Yt were t'abandon noble chevisaunce, 

Por shewe of perill, without venturing : 

Eather, let try extremities of chaunce ^ 

Then enterprised praise for dread to disavaunce/' 

Therewith, resolv'd to prove her utmost might, 
Her ample shield she threw before her face. 
And her swords point directing forward right 
Assayld the flame ; the which eftesoones gave place. 
And did itselfe divide with equall space, 
That through she passed ; as a thonder-bolt 
Perceth the yielding ayre, and doth displace 
The soring clouds into sad showres ymolt ; 
So to her yold the flames, and did their force revolt;. 

Whom whenas Scudamour saw past the fire 

Safe and untoucht, he likewise gan assay 

With greedy will and envious desire. 

And bade the stubborne flames to yield him way ; 

Put eruell Mulciber would not obay 

His threatfull pride, but did the more augment 

His mighty rage, and with imperious sway 

Him forst, maulgre his fercenes, to relent, 

And backe retire all scorcht and pitifully brent. 

With huge impatience he inly swelt, 

More for great sorrow that he could not pas 

Then for the burning torment which he felt; 

That with fell w^oodnes he effierced was, 

And wilfully him throwing on the gras 

Hid beat and bounse his head and brest full sore : 

The whiles the championesse now entred has 

The utmost rowme, and past the foremost dore ; 

The utmost rowme abounding with all precious store : 

Por, round about the walls yclothed were 

With goodly arras of great maiesty. 

Woven with golde and silke so close and nere 

That the rich metall lurked privily, 

As faining to be hidd from envious eye ; 

Yet here and there, and every where, unwares, 

It shewd itselfe and shone unwillingly ; 

Like to' a discolourd snake, whose hidden snares [clares. 

Through the greene gras his long bright burnisht back de- 



THE FAEEIB QUEENB. 395 

And in tliose tapets weren fasliioned 

Many faire pourtraicts, and many a faire feate : 

And all of love, and al of lusty-hed, 

As seemed by their semblaunt, did entreat : 

And eke all Cupids warres they did repeate. 

And cruell battailes, which he whilome fous^ht 

Gainst all the gods to make his empire great ; 

Besides the huge massacres, which he wrought 

On mighty kings and kesars into thraldome brought. 

Therein was writ how often thondring love 

Had felt the point of his hart-percing dart, 

And, leaving heavens kingdome, here did rove 

In straunge disguize, to slake his scalding smart j 

Kow, like a ram, faire Helle to pervart, 

Now, like a bull, Europa to withdraw : 

Ah, how the fearefuU ladies tender harfc 

Did lively seeme to tremble, when she saw 

The huge seas under her t' obay her servaunta law I 

Soone after that, into a golden showre 

Himselfe he chaung'd, faire Danae to vew ; 

And through the roofe- of her strong brasen towro 

Did raine into her lap an hony dew ; 

The whiles her foolish garde, that little knew 

Of such deceipt, kept th' yron dore fast bard, • 

And watcht that none should enter nor issew ; 

Vaine was the watch, and bootlesse all the ward, 

Whenas the god to golden hew himselfe transfard. 

Then was he turnd into a snowy swan. 

To win fair Leda to his lovely trade : 

O wondrous skill, and sweet wit of the man, 

That her in dafFadillies sleeping made 

From scorching heat her daintie limbes to shade! 

Whiles the proud bird, ruffing his fethers wyde 

And brushing his faire brest, did her invade, 

She slept ; yet twixt her eielids closely spyde 

How towards her he rusht, and smiled at his prydo. 

Then shewd it how the Thebane Semelee, 
Deceivd of jealous luno, did require 
To see him in his soverayne maiestee 
Armd with his thunderbolts and lightning fire, 
Whens dearely she with death bought her desire. 
But fair Alcmena better match did make, 
loying his love in likenes more entire : 
Three nights in one they say that for her sake 
He then did put, her pleasures lenger to partake. 



896 THE FAERIE QUEENE, 

Twice was he seene in soaring eagles sliape, 
And with wide winges to beat the buxome ayre: 
Once, when he with Asterie did scape ; 
Againe, whenas the Trojane boy so fayre 
He snatcht from Ida hill, and with him bare: 
Wondrous deHght it was there to behould 
How the rude shepheards after him did stare, 
Trembling through feare least down he fallen should 
And often to him calling to take surer hould. 

In satyres shape Antiopa he snatcht ; 

And like a fire, when he Aegin' assayd : 

A shepeheard, when Mnem.osyne he catcht ; 

And like a serpent to the Thracian mayd. 

Whyles thus on earth great love these page aunts playd. 

The winged boy did thrust into his throne. 

And, scoffing, thus unto his mother sayd ; 

" Lo ! now the hevens obey to me alone, 

And take me for their love, whiles love to earth is gone.** 

And thou, faire Phoebus, in thy colours bright 

Wast there enwoven, and the sad distresse 

In which that boy thee plonged, for'despight 

That thou bewray 'dst his mothers wantonnesse, 

When^ she with Mars was meynt in joyfulnesse : 

Torthy he thrild thee with a leaden dart 

To love fair Daphne, which thee loved lesse ; 

Lesse she thee lov'd than was thy iust desart. 

Yet was thy love her death, and her death was thy smart. 

So lovedst thou the lusty Hyacinct ; 
So lovedst thou the faire Coronis deare : 
Yet both are of thy haplesse hand extinct ; 
Yet both in flowres doe live and love thee beare. 
The one a paunce, the other a sweete-breare : 
For griefe whereof, ye mote have lively seene 
The god himselfe rending his golden heare. 
And breaking quite his garlond ever greene. 
With other signes of sorrow and impatient teene. 

Both for those two, and for his owne deare sonne. 

The sonne of Climene, he did repent ; 

Who, bold to guide the charet of the sunne, 

Himselfe in thousand peeces fondly rent, 

And all the w^orld with flashing fier brent; 

So like, that all the walles did seeme to flame. 

Yet cruell Cupid, not herewith content, 

Forst him eftsoones to follow other game. 

And love a shepheards daughter for his dearest dame. 



THE FAEUIE QTTEENE. 897 

He loved Isse for his dearest dame, 

And for her sake her cat tell fedd awhile, 

And for her sake a cowheard vile became : 

The servant of Admetus, cowheard vile, 

Whiles that from heaven he suffered exile. 

Long were to tell each other lovely iitt ; 

Now, like a lyon huntino: after spoile ; ^ 

"Now, like a hag ; now, like a faulcon flit : 

All which in that faire arras was most lively writ. 

Next unto him was Neptune pictured, 

In his divine resemblance wondrous lyke : 

His face was rugged, and his hoarie hed 

Dropped with brackish deaw : his threeforkt pyke 

He stearnlj^ shooke, and therwith fierce did stryke 

The raging billowes, that on every syde 

They trembling stood, and made a long broad dyke, 

That his swift charet might have passage wyde, 

"Which foure great hippodames did draw in teem -wise tyde. 

His seahorses did seeme to snort amayne, 

And from their nosethrilles blow the brynie streame 

That made the sparckling waves to smoke agayne 

And flame with gold ; but the white fomy creame 

Did shine with silver, and shoot forth his beame : 

The god himselfe did pensive seeme and sad, 

And hong adowne his head as he did dreame ; 

For privy love his brest empierced had, 

Ne ought but deare Bisaltis ay could make him glad. 

He loved eke Iphimedia deare, 

And Aeolus faire daughter, Arne hight. 

For whom he turned himselfe into a steare, 

And fedd on fodder to beguile her sight. 

Also, to win Deucalions daughter bright. 

He turned himselfe into a dolphin fayre ; 

And, like a winged horse, he tooke his flight 

To snaky-locke Medusa to repayre. 

On whom he got faire Pegasus that flitteth in the ayre. 

Next Saturne was, (but who would ever weene 
That sullein Saturne ever weend to love P 
Yet love is sullein, and Satiirnlike scene, 
As he did for Erigone it prove,) 
That to a centaure did himselfe transmove. 
80 prooy'd it eke that gratious god of wine, 
When, for to compasse Phiiliras hard love. 
He turnd himselfe into a fruitfull vine. 
And into her faire bosome made his grapes decline. 
18 



398 THE FAEEIE QXJEENB. 

Long were to tell tlie amorous assay es, 

And gentle pangues, T^ith which he mated meeke 

The mightie Mars, to learne his wanton playes ; 

How oft for Venus, and how often eek 

For many other nymphes, he sore did shreek ; 

With womanish teares, and with un warlike smarts, 

Privily moystening his horrid cheeke : 

There was he painted full of burning dartes, ^ 

And many wide woundes launched through his inner partes. 

"Ne did he spare (so cruell was the clfe) 

His owne deare mother, (ah ! why should he so ?) 

Ne did he spare sometime to pricke himselfe. 

That he might taste the sweet consuming woe, 

Which he had wrought to many others moe. 

But, to declare the mournfull tragedyes 

And spoiles wherewith he aU the ground did strew. 

More eath to number with how many eyes 

High heven beholdes sad lovers nightly theeveryes. 

Kings, queenes, lords, ladies, knights, and damsels gent, 

Were heap'd together with the vulgar sort, 

And mingled with the raskall rablement. 

Without respect of person or of port, 

To shew Dan Cupids powre and great eflPort : 

And round about a border was entrayld 

Of broken bowes and arrowes shivered short ; 

And a long bloody river through them ray Id, 

So lively, and so like, that living sence it fayld. 

And at the upper end of that faire rowme . 

There was an altar built of pretious stone. 

Of passing valew and of ^reat renowme, 

On which there stood an image all alone 

Of massy gold, which with his owne light shone; 

And-winges it had with sondry colours dight. 

More sondry colours then the proud pavone 

B^res in his boasted fan, or Iris bright, 

Wlien her discolourd bow she spreads through heven bright. 

Blyndfold he was ; and in liis cruell fist 
A mortal! bow and arrowes keene did hold, 
With which he shot at randon when him list, 
Some headed with sad lead, some with pure gold ; 
(Ahr man, beware how thou those dartes behold !) 
A wounded dragon under him did ly. 
Whose hideous tayle his lefte foot did enfold. 
And with a shaft was shot through either eye. 
That no man forth might draw, ne no man remcdye. 



THE FAEEIB QUEENB. 399 

Ana undemeatli liis feet was written tlius. 

Unto the Victor of the gods this bee: 

And all the people in that ample hous 

Did to that image bowe their humble knee. 

And oft committed fowle idolatfee. 

That wondrous sight faire Britomart amazd, 

Ne seeing could her wonder satis fie, 

•Bat ever more and more upon it gazd, 

The whiles the passing brigntnes her fraile sences dazd. 

Tho, as she backward cast her bnsie eye 

To search each secrete of that goodly sted. 

Over the dore thus written she did spye. 

Bee bold: she oft and oft it over-red, 

Yet could not find what sence it figured ; 

But whatso were therein or writ or meat. 

She was no whit thereby discouraged 

From prosecuting of her first in!.cnt, 

But forward with bold steps into the next roome went. 

Much fayrer then the former was that roome. 

And richlier, by many partes, arayd; 

For not with arras made in painefull loome. 

But with pure gold it all was overlay d. 

Wrought with wilde antickes which their follies playd 

In the rich metall, as they living were: 

A thousand monstrous formes therein were made. 

Such as false Love doth oft upon him weare ; 

For love in thousand monstrous formes doth oft appeare. 

And, all about, the glistring walles were hong 

With warlike spoiles and with victorious prayes 

Of mightie conquerours and captaines strong, 

Which were whilome captived in their dayes 

To cruell love, and wrought their owne decay es : 

Their swerds and speres were broke, and hauberques rent. 

And their proud girlonds of tryumphant bayes 

Trodden in dust with fury insolent, 

To shew the victors might and merciless intent. 

The warlike mayd, beholding earnestly 

The goodly ordinaunce of this rich place. 

Did greatly wonder; .ne could satisfy 

Her greedy eyes with gazing a long space: 

But more she mervaild that no footings trace 

!Nor wight appeard, but wastefull emptiness 

And soiemne silence over all that place: 

Straunge thing it seem'd, that none was to possesse 

So rich purveyaunce, ne them keepe with carefdnesse. 



400 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

And, as ehe lookt about, slie did beliold 

How over that same dgre was likewise writ, 

Be holde, he holder and every wliere, JBe hold; 

That much she muz'd, yet could not construe it 

V>y any ridhng skill or commune wit. 

At last she spyde at that rowmes upper end 

Another yron dore, on which was writ. 

Be not too hold; whereto though she did bend ^ 

Her earnest minde, yet wist not what it might intend. 

Thus she there wayted untill eventyde. 
Yet living creature none she saw appeare. 
And now sad shadowes gan the world to hyde 
From mortall vew, and wrap in darkenes drearej 
Yet nould she d'off her weary armes, for feare 
Of secret daunger, ne let sleepe oppresse 
Her heavy eyes with natures burdein deare, 
But drew herselfe aside in sickernesse, 
And her welpointed wepons did about her dresSD. 



CANTO XII. 

The maske of Cupid, and th* enchaxm- 

ted chamber are displayd; 
Whence Britomart redeemcs faire A- 

xnoret through charmes decayd. 

Tho, when as chearelesse night ycovered had 

Fayre heaven with an universall clowd, 

That every wight dismayd with darkenes sad 

In silence and in sleepe themselves did shrowd. 

She heard a shrilling trompet sound alowd, 

Signe of nigh battaill, or got victory: 

JS^ ought therewith daunted was her courage prowd* 

But rather stird to eruell enmity, 

Expecting ever when some foe she might descry. 

With that, an hideous storme of winde arose. 
With dreadfull thunder and lightning atwixt. 
And an earthquake, as if it streight would lose 
The worlds foundations from his centre fixt : 
A direfull stench of smoke and sul))hure mixt 
Ensewd, whose noyaunce fild the fearefull stcd 
From the fourth howre of night untill the sixt ; 
^< et the bold Britonesse was nought ydred. 
Though much eiamoY'd, but stediast still perserered. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 4^1 

AU sTiddeinly a stormy wliirlwind blew 

Throughout the house, that clapped every dore, • 

With which that yron wicket open flew. 

As it with mighty levers had bene tore; 

And forth yssewd, as on the readie flore 

Of some theatre, a ^rave personage 

That in his hand a braunch of laurell bore. 

With comely haveour and count'nance sage, 

Yclad in. costly garments fit for tragicke stage. 

Proceeding to the midst he stil did stand, 
As if in minde he somewhat had to say; • 
And to the vulgare beckning with his hand, 
In signe of silence, as to heare a play, 
Ey lively actijons he gan bewray 
Some argument of matter passioned; 
Which doen, he backe retyred soft away, 
And passing by, his name discovered, 
Ease, on his robe in golden letters cyphered. 

The noble mayd still standing all this vewd. 
And merveild at his straunge intendiment : 
With that a ioyous fellowship issewd 
Of rains trales making goodly meriment, 
With wanton bardes, and rymers impudent} 
All which together song full cheare fully 
A lay of loves delight with sweet concent: 
After whom marcht a iolly company, 
In manner of a maske, enranged orderly. 

The whiles a most delitious harmony 

In full straunge notes was sweetly heard to sounds 

That the rare sweetnesse of the melody 

The feeble sences wholy did confound, 

And the frayle soule in deepe delight n^'gh drownd: 

And, when it ceast, shrill trompets lowd did bray, 

That their report did far away rebound; 

And, when they ceast, it gan againe to play, 

The whiles the maskers marched forth in trim aray. 

The first was Fansy, like a lovely boy 

Of rare aspect and beautie without peare, 

Matchable either to that ympe of Troy, 

Whom love did love and chose his cup to beare j 

Or that same daintie lad, which was so deare 

To great Alcides, that, wlienas he dyde, 

lie wailed womanlike with many a teare. 

And every wood and every valley wyde 

He fiUd with Hylas name • the nymphes elce Hylas cryde. 



40*2 THE FAEBIE QtJEENB. 

His garment neither was of silke nor say, 

33ut paynted plumes in goodly order diglit. 

Like as the sunburnt Indians do aray 

Their tawney bodies in their proudest plight : 

As those same plumes, so seemd he vaine and hght. 

That by his gate might easily appeare ; 

For still he far'd as dauncing in delight, 

And in his hand a windy fan did beare. 

That in the ydle ayre he mov'd still here and theare. 

And him beside marcht amorous Desyre, 

Who seemd of rj^per yeares then th' other swayne, 

Yet was that other swayne this elders syre, 

And gave him being, commune to them twayne : 

His garment was disguysed very vayne, n 

And his embrodered bonet sat awry: 

Twixt both his hands few sparks he close did strayne, 

Which still he blew and kindled busily. 

That soone they life conceiv'd, and forth in flames did fly. 

Next after him went Doubt, who was yclad 

In a discolour'd cote of straunge disgu^^se, 

That at his backe a brode capuccio had, 

And sleeves dependaunt Albanese-wyse; 

He lookt askew with his mistrustfull eyes. 

And nycely trode, as thornes lay in his way. 

Or that the flore to shrinke he did avyse ; 

And on a broken reed he still did stay 

His feeble steps, which shrunck when hard thereon he lay. 

With him went Daunger, cloth*d in ragged weed 
Made of beares skin, that him more dreadfull made; 
Yet his owne face was dreadfull, ne did need 
Straunge horrour to deform e his griesly shade : 
A net in th' one hand, and a rusty blade 
In th' other was ; this Mischiefe, that Mishap ; 
With th' one his foes he threatned to invade. 
With th' other he his friends ment to enwrap : 
Tor whom he could not kill he practizd to entrap, 

Next him was Feare, all arm'd from top to toe. 
Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby, 
J3ut feard each shadow moving to or froe ; 
And, his owne armes when glittering he did spy 
Or clashing heard, he fast away did fly, 
As ashes pale of hew. and winged heeld ; 
And evermore on Daunger fixt his eye. 
Gainst whom he alwayes bent a brasen shield. 
Which his right hand unarmed fearefully did wield. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENS 403 

With him went Hope in rancke, a handsome mayd. 

Of chearefull looke and lovely to behold; 

In silken samite she was light arayd, ^ 

And her fayre lockes were woven up in gold : 

She alway smyld, and in her hand did hold 

An holy-water-sprinckle, dipt in deowe, ^ 

With which she sprinckled favours manifold 

On whom she list, and did great liking sheowe. 

Great hking unto many, but true love to feowe. 

And after them Dissemblaunce and Suspect 

Marcht in one rancke, yet an unequall paii^e ; 

For she was gentle and of milde aspect. 

Courteous to all and seeming debonaire. 

Goodly adorned and exceeding faire ; 

Yet was that all but paynted and purloyned, 

And her bright browes were deckt with borrowed haire 5 

Her deeds were forged, and her words false coynd, 

And alwaies in her hand two clewes of silke she twynd : 

But he was fowle, ill favoured, and grim. 

Under his eiebrowes looking still askaunce; 

And ever, as Dissemblaunce laught on him. 

Her lowrd on her with daungerous eye-glaunce. 

Shewing his nature in his countenaunce ; 

His rolling eies did never rest in place. 

But walkte each where for feare of hid mischaunce, 

Holding a lattis still before his face, 

Through which he stil did peep as forward he did pace. 

Next him went Griefe and Fury matcht yfere; 

Griefe all in sable sorrowfully clad, 

Downe hanging his dull head with heavy chere. 

Yet inly being more then seeming sad: 

A paire of pincers in his hand he had, 

With which he pinched people to the hart. 

That from thenceforth a wretched life they ladd. 

In willfull languor and consuming smart. 

Dying each day with inward wounds of dolours darfc. 

But Fury was full ill apparelled 
In rags, that naked nigh she did appeare, 
Whith ghastly looks and dreadfull drerihed ; 
And from her backe her garments she did teare, 
And from her head ofte rente her snarled heare : 
In her right hand a firebrand shee did tosse 
About her head, still roaming here and there ; 
As a dismayed deare in chace embost, 
ForgetfuU of his safety, hath his right way lost. 



iOi THE PAERIE QUEENB. 

After them went Displeasure and Pleasaunco, 

He loo]:iTi<r lompish and full sullein sad, 

And hanging: downe liis heavy countenaunce : 

She chearfulJ, fresh, and full of iojaunce glad, 

As if no sorrow she ne felt ne drad; 

That evill matched paire they seemd to bee : 

An angry waspe th' one in a viall had, 

Th' other in hers an hony lady-bee. 

Thus marched these six couples forth in faire degree. 

After all these there marcht a most faire dame. 
Led of two giysie villeins, th* one Despight, 
The other cleped' Cruelty by name : 
She dolefull lady, like a dreary spright 
Cald by strong charmes out of eternall night. 
Had Deathes own ymage figurd in her face, 
Full of sad signes, fearfull to living sight; 
Yet in that horror shewd a seemely grace, 
And wdth her feeble feete did move a comely pace. 

Her brest all naked, as nett yvory 
Without adorn e of gold or silver bright, 
Wherewith the craftesman wonts it beautify, 
Of her dew honour was despoyled quight ; 
And a wide wound therein (O ruefull sight !) 
Entrenched deep with knyfe accursed keene, 
Yet freshly bleeding forth her fainting spright, 
(The worke of cruell hand) was to be scene. 
That dyde in sanguine red her skin all snowy cteene. 

At that wide orifice her trembling hart 
Was drawne forth, and in silver basin layd. 
Quite through transfixed with a deadly dart, 
And in her l3lood yet steeming fresh embayd. 
And those two villeins (which her steps upstayd, 
When her weake feete could scarcely her sustaine, 
And fading vitall powres gan to fade,) 
Her forward still with torture did constraine, 
And evermore encreased her consuming paine. 

Next after her, the winged god himselfe 
Came riding on a lion ravenous, 
Taught to obay the menage of that elfe 
That man and beast with powre imperious 
Subdeweth to his kingdome tyrannous ; 
His blindfold eies he bad awhile unbinde, 
That his proud spoile of that same dolorous 
Faire dame he might behold in perfect kinde ; 
Which seene, he much reioyced in his cruell minde. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE, 405 

Of which ful prowd, himself uprearing hye 

He looked round about with sterne disdayne. 

And did survay his goodly company; 

And, marshalling the evil-ordered trnyne, 

With that the darts which his right hand did straino 

Pull dreadfully he shooke, that all did quake, 

And clapt on hye his coulourd winges twaino, 

That all his many it affraide did make : 

Tho, blinding him againe, his way he forth did take. 

Bchinde him was Heproch, Eepentannce, Slmme ; 
Jleproch tho first, Shame next, llcpent behindo j 
Kepentaunce feeble, sorrowfull, and lame ; 
Reproch despightful, carelesse, and unkinde; 
Shame most ill-favourd, bestiall, and blinde : 
Sliame lowrd, llepentaunco sighd, lleproch did acouldi 
Keproch sharpe stings, liei)entaunce whips entwiiide, 
Shame burning brond-yrons in her hand did hold : 
All three to each unlike, yet all made in one mould. 

And after them a rude confused rout 

Of persons flockt, whose names is hard to read: 

Emongst them was sterne Strife; and Anger stout; 

Unquiet Care; and fond Unthrift3^head ; 

Lewd Losse of Time; and Sorrow seeming dead; 

Inconstant Chaunge; and false Disloyalty; 

Consuming Eiotise; and guilty Dread 

Of heavenly vengeaunce; faint Infirmity; 

Vile Poverty; and, lastly, Death with infamy. 

There were full many moe like maladies, 

Whose names and natures I note readen well; 

So many moe, as there be phantasies 

In wavering wemens witt, that none can tell. 

Or paines in love, or punishments in hell : 

All which disguized marcht in masking-wiso 

About tho chamber by the damozell : 

And then returned, having marched thrise, 

Into the inner rowme from whence they first did riae. 

So soone as they were in, the dore streightway 

Fast locked, driven with that stormy blast 

Which first it opened, and bore all away. 

Then the brave maid, which al this \>'liilc was plast 

In secret shade, and saw both first and last, 

Issewed forth and went unto the dore 

To enter in, but fownd it looked fast: 

In vaine she thought with rigorous upi'oro 

For to effbrce, when charmcs had closed it afore. 



jQ^ TnE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Where force im'frlit not availe, there sleisrhif and art 

She cast to use, both fitt for hard emprize ; 

Forthy from that same rowme not to depart 

Till morrow next shee did herselfe avize, 

When that same maske againe should forth arize. 

The morrowe next appeard with iouyous cheare, 

GalHnor nien to their daily exercize ; 

Then sh?, as morrow fresh, herselfe did reare 

Out of her secret stand that day for to outweare. 

All that day she outwore in wandering 

And gazing on that chambers ornament, 

Till that againe the second evening 

Her covered with her sable vestiment, 

WTierewith the worlds faire beautie she hath blent : 

Then, when the second watch was almost past, 

That brasen dore flew open, and in went 

Bold Britomart, as she had late forecast, 

Nether of ydle showes nor of false charmes aghast. 

So soone as she was entred, rownd about 
Shee cast her eies to see what was become 
Of all those persons which she saw without. 
But lo ! they streight were vanisht all and some ; 
Ne living wight she saw in all that roome, 
Save that same woefuU lady; both whose hands 
W^ere bounden fast, that did her ill become, 
And her small waste girt rownd ^ith yron bands 
Ijnto a brasen pillour, by the which she stands. 

And, her before, the vile enchaunter sate, 

Fio'uring straunge characters of his art; 

W^ith living blood he those characters wrate. 

Dreadfully dropping from her dying hart, 

Seeming transfixed with a cruell dart : 

And all perforce to make her him to love. , 

Ah ! who can love the worker of her smart ! 

A thousand charmes he formerly did prove; 

Yet thousand charmes could not her stedfast hart remove. 

Soon as that virgin knight he saw in place, 

His wicked bookes in hast he overthrew, 

Not caring his long labours to deface; 

And, fiercely running to that lady trew, 

A murdrous knife out of his pocket drew, 

The ^^'hich he thought, for villeinous despight, 

In her tormented bodie to embrew: 

But the stout damzell to him leaping light 

His cursed hand withlield, and maistered his might. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 407 

From lier, to whom his fary first he ment. 
The wicked weapon rashly he did wrest. 
And, turning to heraelfe his fell intent, 
Unwares it strooke into her snowie chest, 
That Utle drops empurpled her faire brest. 
Exceeding wroth therewith the virgin grew, 
Albe the wound were nothing deepe imprest, 
And fiercely forth her mortall blade she drew. 
To give him the reward for such vile outrage dew. 

So mightily she smote him, that to ground 

He fell halfe dead; next stroke him should have slaiue. 

Had not the lady, which by him stood bound, 

Dernly unto her called to abstaine 

From doing him to dy; for else her paine 

Should be remedilesse; sith none but hee 

"Which wrought it could the same recure againe. 

Therewith she stayd her hand, loth stayd to bee ; 

For life she him envyde, and long'd revenge to see. 

And to him said ; " Thou wicked man, whose meed 

For so huge mischiefe and vile villany 

Is death, or if that ought doe death exceed; 

Be sure that nought may save thee from to dy; 

But if that thou this dame do presently 

[Restore unto her health and former state ; 

This doe, and live ; els dye undoubtedly.'* 

He, glad of life, that lookt for death but late. 

Did yield himselfe right willing to prolong his date : 

And rising up gan streight to over-looke 

Those cursed leaves, his charmes back to reverse i 

Full dreadfuU thinges out of that balefull booke 

He red, and measur'd many a sad verse, 

That horrour gan the virgins hart to loerse, 

And her faire Icicks up stared stiffe on end, 

Hearing him those same bloody lynes reherse ; 

And, all the while he red, she did extend 

Her sword high over him, if ought he did ofiend. 

Anon she gan perceive the house to quake. 

And all the dores to rattle round about ; 

Yet all that did not her dismaied make, 

Nor slack her threatfull hand for daungers dout. 

But still with stedfast eye and courage stout 

Abode, to weet what end would come of all : 

At last that mightie chaine, which round about 

Her tender waste was wound, adowne gan fall, 

And that great brasen pillour broke in xJceces smalL 



408 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

The cruell steele, which thrild her dying hart, 

Pell softly forth, as of his owne accord ; 

And the wyde wound, which lately did disparfc 

Her bleeding brest and riven bowels gor'd, 

Was closed up as it had not beene sor'd; 

And every part to safety full sownd. 

As she were never hurt, wa s soone restord : 

Tho, when she felt herselfe to be uubownd 

And perfect hole, prostrate she fell unto the growndj 

Before faire Britomart she fell prostrate, 

Saying; **Ah! noble knight, what worthy meede 

Can wretched lady, quitt from wofull state, 

Yield you in lieii of this your gracious deed P 

Your yertue selfe her owne reward shall breed, 

Even immortall prays e and glory wyde, 

"Which I your vassall, by your prowesse freed, 

Shall through the world make to be notify.de, 

And goodly well advaimce that goodly well was tryde/ 

But Britomart, -uprearing her from grownd, 
Said ; " Gentle dame, roward enough I weene, 
For many labours more than I have' found. 
This, that in safetie now I have you scene, 
And meane of your deliverance have beene: 
Henceforth, faire lady^ comfort to you take. 
And put away rememorance of late teene ; 
Insted thereof, know that your loving make 
Hath no lesse griefe endured for your gentle sake. 

She much was cheard to heare him mentiond, 

Whom of all living wightes she loved best. 

Then laid the noble championesse strong hond 

Upon th* enchaunter which had her distrest 

So sore, and with foule outrages opprest : 

With that great chain e, wherewith not long ygoe 

He bound that pitteous lady prisoner now relest, 

Himselfe she bound, more worthy to be so. 

And captive with her led to wretchednesse and wo. 

Beturning back, those goodly rowmes which erst 
She saw so rich and royally arayd, 
Now vanisht utterly and cleane subverst 
She found, and all their glory quite decayd ; 
That sight of such a chaunge her much dismay d. 
Thence forth descending to that perlous porch. 
Those dreadfull flames she also found delayd 
And quenched quite hke a consumed torch. 
That erst all entrers won, so cruelly to scorch. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENS, 40'J 

More easle issew now tlien entrance late 

She found ; for now that fained dreadfull flamo, 

Which chokt the porch of that enchaunted gate 

And passage bard to all that thither came 

Was vanisht quite, as it were not the same, 

And gave her leave at pleasure forth to passe. 

Th* enchaunter selfe, which, all that fraud did frame 

To have efForst the love of that faire lasse, 

Seeing his worke now wasted, deepe engrieved was. 

But when the victoresse arrived there 
Where late she left the pensife Scudamore 
With her own trusty squire, both full of feare, 
Neither of them she found where she them lore : 
Thereat her noble hart was stonisht sore ; 
[But most faire Amoret, whose gentle spright 
Now gan to feede on hope, which she before 
Conceived had, to see her own deare knight, ^ 
Being thereof beguyld, was fild with new affright. 

But he, sad man, when he had long in drede 

Away ted there for Britomarts re turn e. 

Yet saw her not, nor signe of her good speed. 

His expectation to despaire did turne, 

Misdeeming sure that her those flames did burne; 

And therefore gan advize with her old squire, 

Who her deare nourslintrs losse no lesse did mourne. 

Thence to depart for further aide t* enquire : 

Where let them wend at will, whilest here I doe respire. 



THE rOUETH BOOKE 

OP 

THE FAEEIE QTJEENE, 

CONTAYNING 

^}}t ICegentf o! (^Kmbtl antf ^rfamontr, or of Jricntrsl;tp. 



THE nigg:ed forliead, that with grave foresight 
Welds kingdomes causes and affaires of state. 
My looser rimes, I wote, doth sharply wite 
For praising love as I have done of late. 
And magnifying lovers deare debate ; 
3y which fraile youth is oft of follie led, 
Through false allurement of that pleasing baite. 
That better were in vertues discipled, 
Then with vaine poemes weeds to have their fancies fed. 

Such ones ill iudge of love, that cannot love, 

Ne in their frosen hearts feele kindly flame : 

Torthy they ought not thing unknowne reprove, 

"Ne natural! affection faultlesse blame 

For fault of few that huve abusd the same : 

For it of honor and all vertue is^ 

The roote, and brings forth glorious flowres of fame, 

That crowne true lovers with immortall blis, 

The meed of them that love, and do not live amisse. 

Which whoso list looke backe to former ages, 

And call to count the things that then were donne. 

Shall find that all the workes of those wise sages. 

And brave exploits which great heroes wonne. 

In love were either ended or begunne : 

Witnesse the father of Philosophic, 

WJiich to his Critias, shaded offc from sunne. 

Of love full manie lessons did apply. 

The which these stoicke censours cannot well deny* 

To such therefore I do not sing at all ; 

But to that sacred saint my soveraigne queene. 

In whose chast brest all bountie natural! 

And treasures of true love enlocked beene, 

Bove all her sexe that ever yet was scene ; 

To her I sing of love, that loveth best. 

And best is lov'd of all alive I weene ; 

To her this song, most fitly is addrest, [blest 

The Queene of Love, and Prince of Peace from heavea 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 411 

Wliich tliat she may the better deigne to heare. 

Do thou, dread infant, Venus dearling dove, 

From her high spirit chase imperious feare. 

And use of awfull maiestie remove : 

Insted thereof with drops of melting love, 

Deawd with ambrosiall kisses, by thee gotten . 

From thy sweete-smyhng mother from above, 

Sprinctre her heart, and haughtie courage soften, 

That she may hearke to love, and reade this lesson often. 



CANTO L 

Fayre Britomart saves Amoret : 

Duessa discord breedes 
Twixt Scudamour and Blandamour: 

Their fight and warlike deedes. 

Of lovers sad calamities of old 

Full many piteous stories doe remaine. 

But none more piteous ever was ytold 

Then that of Aniorets hart-binding chaine. 

And this of Florimels unworthie paine : 

The deare compassion of whose bitter fit 

My softned heart so sorely doth constraine. 

That I with teares full oft doe pittie it. 

And oftentimes doe wish it never had bene writ. 

For, from the time that Scudamour her bought 

In perilous fight, she never ioyed day ; 

A perilous fight ! when he with force her brought 

From twentie knights that did him all assay; 

Yet fairely well he did them aU dismay. 

And with great glorie both the shield of Love 

And eke the ladie selfe he brought away ; 

Whom having wedded, as did him behove, 

A new unknowen mischiefe did from him remore. 

For that same vile enchauntour Busyran, • 
The very selfe same day that she was wedded, 
Amidst the bridale feast, whilest every man 
Sareharg'd with wine w^re heedlesse and ill-hedded. 
All bent to mirth, before the bride was bedded, 
Brought in that mask of love which late was showen ; 
And there the ladie ill of friends bestedded, 
By way of sport, as oft in maskes is knowen, 
Conveyed quite away to living wight unknowen. 



112 THE PAEEIE QTTEENE. 

Seven monetlis lie so her kept in bitter smart, 
Because liis sinfull lust she would not serve, 
Untill such time as noble Britomart 
J^eleased her, that else was like to sterve 
Through cruell knife that her deare heart did kerve: 
And now she is with her upon the way 
Marching in lovely wise, that could deserve 
"No spot of blame, though spite did oft assay 
To blot her with dishonor of so faire a pray. 

Yet should it be a pleasant tale, to tell 

The diverse usage, and demeanure daint. 

That each to other made, as oft befell: 

For Amoret right fearefull was and faint 

Lest she with blame her honor should attaint. 

That everie word did tremble as she spake, 

And everie looke was coy and wondrous quaint. 

And everie limbo that touched her did quake; 

Yet should she not but curteous countenance to her make. 

For well she wist, as true it was indeed, 

Q^hat her live's lord and patrone of her health 

Ilight well deserved, as his duefull meed. 

Her love, her service, and her utmost wealth 2 

All is his. iustly that all freely deal'th. 

ISTathlesse her honor dearer then her life 

She sought to save, as thing reserv'd from stealth; 

Die had she lever with enchanters knife 

Then to be false in love, profest a virgine wife. 

Thereto her feare was made so much the greater 

Through fine abusion of that Briton mayd ; 

Who, for to hide her fained sex the better 

And maske her wounded mind, both did and sayd 

Full many things so doubtfull to be wayd, 

That well she wist not what by them to gesse : 

For otherwhiles to her she purpos made 

Of love, and otherwhiles of lustfulnesse. 

That much she feard his mind would grow to some excesse. 

His will she feard ; for him she surely thought 

To be a man, such as indeed he seemed ; 

And much the more, by that he lately wrought, 

A¥ben her from deadly thraldome he redeemed. 

For which no service she too much esteemed : 

Yet dread of shame and doubt of fowle dishonor 

Made her not yeeld so much as due she deemed. 

Yet Britomart attended duly on her, 

As well became a knight, and did to her all honor* 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENB. 413 

It SO befell one evening that they came 
Unto a castell, lodged there to bee, 
Where many a knight, and many a lovely dame, 
"Was then assembled deeds of amies to see : 
Amongst all which was none more faire then shee. 
That many of them mov'd to eye her sore. 
The.custome of that place was such, that hee, 
Which had no love nor lemman there in store, 
Should either winne him one, or lye without the dore. 

Amongst the rest there was a iolly knight. 

Who, being asked for his love, avow*d 

That fairest Amoret was his by right, 

And offred that to iustifie alowd. 

The warlike virgine, seeing his so prowd 

And boastfull chalenge, wexed inlie wroth, 

But for the present did her anger shrowd ; 

And sayd, her love to lose she was full loth, 

But either he should neither of them have, or both* 

So foorth they went, and booth together giusted ; 

But that same younker soone was overthrowne, 

And made repent that he had rashly lusted 

For thing unlawfull that was not his owne : 

Yet since he seemed valiant, though unknowne. 

She, that no lesse was courteous then stout, 

Cast how to salve, that both the custome showne 

Were kept, and yet that knight not locked out ; ^ 

That seem'd full hard t'accord two things so far in dout. 

The seneschall was cal'd to deeme the right ; 

Whom she required, that first fayre Amoret 

Might be to her allow'd, as to a knight 

That did her win and free from chalenge set : 

Which straight to her was yeelded without let : 

Then, since that strange knights love from him was quitted, 

She claim'd that to herselie, as ladies det, 

He as a knight might iustly be admitted ; 

So none should be out shut, sith all of loves were fitted. 

With that, her glistring helmet she unlaced ; 
Which do ft, her golden lockes, that were upbound 
Still in a knot, unto her heeles downe traced, 
And like a silken veile in compasse round 
About her backe and all her bodie wound : 
Like as the shining skie in summers night, 
What time the dayes with scorching heat abound, 
Is creasted all with lines of firie light, 
That it prodigious seemes in common peoples sight. 



414 THE PAEEIE QTJEENE. 

Sucli, when those kniglits and ladies all about 

Beheld her, all were with amazement smit. 

And every one gan grow in secret dout 

Of this and that, according to each wit : 

Some thought that some enchantment faygned its 

Some, that Bellona in that warlike wise 

To them appear 'd, with shield aLd armour fit ; 

Some, that it was a maske of strange disguise : 

So diversely each one did sundrie doubts devise. 

But that young knight, which through her gentle deed 

Was to that goodly fellowship restor'd. 

Ten thousand thankes did yeeld her for her meed, 

And, doubly overcommen, her ador'd : 

So did they all their former -strife accord ; 

And eke fayre Amoret, now freed from feare. 

More franke afiection did to her aiford ; 

And to her bed, which she was wont forbeare, 

iWow freely drew, and found right safe assurance tlienre : 

Where all that night they of their loves did treat. 

And hard adventures, twixt themselves alone. 

That each the other gan with passion great 

And griefull pittie privately bemone. 

The morow next, so soone as Titan shone. 

They both uprose, and to their waies them dight s 

Long wandred they, yet never met with none 

That to their willes could them direct aright, 

Or to them tydings tell that mote their harts delight. 

Lo thus they rode, till at the last they spide 
Two armed knights that toward them did pace. 
And ech of them had ryding by his side 
A ladie, seeming in so farre a space : 
But ladies none they were, albee in face 
And outward shew faire semblance they did beare ; 
For under maske of beautie and good grace 
Vile treason and fowle falshood hidden were. 
That mote to none but to the warie wise appeare. 

The one of them the false Duessa hight. 

That now had chang'd her former wonted hew; 

For she could d'on so manie shapes in sight, 

As ever could cameleon colours new ; 

So could she forge all colours, save the trew s 

The other no whit better was then shee. 

But that, such as she was, she plaine did shew; 

Yet otherwise much worse, if worse might bee, 

Ajid dayly more offensive imto each degree : 



THE TAESIE QTTEENB 415 

Her name was Ate, mother of debate 

Aud ail dissention which, doth dayly grow 

Amongst fraile men, that many a pubhke state 

And many a private oft doth overthrow. 

Her false Duessa, who full well did know 

To be most fit to trouble noble knights 

Which hunt for honor, raised from below 

Out of the dwellings of the damned sprights, 

Where she in darknes wastes her cursed daies and nights. 

Hard by the gates of hell her dwelling is ; 
There, whereas all the plagues and harmes abound 
Which punish wicked men that walke amisse : 
It is a darksome delve farre under ground, 
With thornes and barren brakes environd roundt 
That none the same may easily out win ; 
Yet many waies to enter may be found, 
But none to issue forth when one is in i ^ 
For discord harder is to end then to begin. 

And all within, the wen walls were hung 

With ragged monuments of times forepast, 

All which the sad effects of discord sung : 

There w^ere rent robes and broken scepters plast i 

Altars defyld, and holy things defast ; 

Disshivered speares, and shields ytorne in twaine ; 

Great cities ransackt, and strong castles rast : 

Nations captived, and huge armies slaine : 

Of all which ruines there some relicks did remaine. 

There was the signe of antique Babylon ; 

Of fatall Thebes ; of Kome that raigned long ; 

Of sacred Salem ; and sad Ilion, 

For memorie of which on high there hong 

The golden apple, cause of all their wrong. 

For which the three faire goddesses did strive : 

There also was the name of iNimrod strong; 

Of Alexander, and his princes five 

Which shar'd to them the spoiles that he had got alive : 

And there the relicks of the drunken fray, 

The which amongst the Lapithees befell : 

And of the bloodie feast, which sent away 

So many centaures drunken soules to hell. 

That under great Alcides furie feli¥ 

And of the dreadfull discord, which did drive 

The noble Ar<2:onauts to outrage fell. 

That each of life sought others to deprive, 

All mmdlesse of the goldeen fleece, which made them strive. 



416 THE TAEEIE QTTEENE. 

And elce of private persons many raoe, 

Tiiat were too long a worke to count them all ; 

Some, of sworne friends that did their faith forgoe; 

Some, of borne brethren prov'd unnaturall: 

Some, of deare lovers foes perpetuall : 

"Witnesse their broken bandes there to be seeno, 

Their girlonds rent, their bowres despoyled all ; 

The moniments whereof there byding beene, 

As plaine as at the first when they were fresh and greene. 

Such was her house within ; but all without, 

The barren ground was full of wicked weedes, 

Which she herselfe had sowen all about, 

"Now growen great, at first of little seedes, 

The seedes of evill wordes and factious deedes; 

Wiiich, when to ripenesse due they growen arre, 

Bring forth an infinite increase, that breedes 

Tumultuous trouble, and contentious iarre, 

The which most often, end in bloudshed and in warre. 

And those same cursed seedes doe also serve 

To her for bread, and yeeld her hving food : 

'For life it is to her, when others sterve 

Through mischievous debate and deadly feood, 

That she may sucke their life and drinke their blood. 

With which she from her childhood had bene fed : 

Por she at first was borne of hellish brood. 

And by infernall furies nourished ; 

That by her monstrous shape might easily be red. 

Her face most fowle and filthy was to see, 

With squinted eyes contrarie wayes intended, 

And loathly mouth, unmeete a mouth too bee, 

That nought but gall and venim compreliended, 

And wicked wordes that God and man ofiended: 

Her lying tongue was in two parts divided, 

And both the parts did speake, and both contended ; 

And as her tongue so was her hart discided, ^ 

That never thought one thing, but doubly stil was guided. 

Als as she double spake, so heard she double, 
With matchlesse eares deformed and distort, 
Fild with false rumors and seditious trouble. 
Bred in assemblies of the vulgar sort, 
That still are led with trery light report : 
And as her eares, so eke her feet were odde. 
And much unlike ; th' one long, the other short. 
And both misplast ; that, when th' one forward yode, 
The other backe retired and contrarie trode. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 417 

Lllcewise uneqiiall were her liandes twaine ; 

That one did reach, the other pusht away ; 

That one did make, the other mard agaiao, 

And sought to bring all things unto decay; 

Whereby great riches, gathered manie a day. 

She in short space did often bring to nought. 

And their possessours often did dismay : 

Por all her studie was and all her thought 

How she might overthrow the things that Concord wrought. 

So much her malice did her might surpas. 
That even th' Almightie selfe she did maligne. 
Because to man so mercifull he was, 
And unto all his creatures so benigne, 
Sith she herselfe was of his grace indigne: 
Por all this worlds faire workmanship she tride 
Unto his last confusion to bring, 
And that great golden chaine quite to divide, 
With which it blessed Concord hath together tide. 

Such was that ha^, which with Duessa roade; 

And, serving her in her malitious use 

To hurt good knights, was, as it were, her baude 

Te sell her borrowed beautie to abuse : 

For though, like withered tree that wanteth iuyce, 

Sbe old and crooked were, yet now of late 

As fresh and fragment as the floure-deluce 

She was become, by chaunge of her estate, 

And made full goodly ioyance to her new-found mate : 

Her mate, he was a iolhe youthfull knight, 

That bore great sway in amies and chivalrio. 

And was indeed a man of mickle might ; 

His name was Blandamour, that did descrie 

His fickle mind full of inconstancie : 

And now himselfe he fitted had right well 

With two companions of like qualitie, 

Faithlesse Duessa, and false Paridell, 

That whether were more false, full hard it is to tell. 

InT ow when this gallant with his goodly crew 
From farre espide the famous Britomart, 
Like knight adventurous in outward vew, 
With his faire paragon, his conquests part, 
Approfhing ni^h ; cftsoones his wanton hart 
Was tickled with delight, and iesting sayd ; 
" Lo ! there, Sir Paridel, for your desart. 
Good lucke presents you with yond lovely mayd, 
For pitie that ye want a fellow for your ayd." 



418 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Ey tliat tlie lovely paire drew nigli to liond: 

Whom whenas Paridel more plaiae beheld, 

Albee in heart he like aiFection fond, 

Yet mindfull how he late by one was feld 

That did those armes and that same scutchion weld. 

He had small lust to buy his love so deare, 

[But answered; *' Sir, him wise I never held. 

That, having once escaped perill neare. 

Would afterwards afresh the sleeping evill reare. 

" This knight too late his manhood and his might 

I did assay, that me right dearely cost ; 

ISe list I for revenge provoke new fight, 

Ne for light ladies love, that soone is lost." 

The hot-spurre youth so scorning to be crost, 

** Take then to you this dame of mine," quoth hee, 

" And I, without your perill or your cost, 

Will chalenge yond same other for my fee." 

So forth he fiercely prickt, that one him scarce could see. 

The warlike Britonesse her soone addrest, 

And with such uncouth welcome did receave 

Her fayned paramour, her forced guest. 

That, being forst his saddle soone to leave, 

Himselfe he did of his new love deceave ; 

And made himselfe th* ensample of his follie. 

Which done, she passed forth, not taking leave. 

And left him now as sad as whilome iollie. 

Well warned to beware with whom he dar'd to daUie. 

Which when his other companie beheld, 
They to his succour ran with readie ayd ; 
And, finding him unable once to weld. 
They reared him on horse-backe and upstayd. 
Till on his way they had him forth con vayd: 
And all the way, with wondrous griefe of mynd 
And shame, he shewd himselfe to be dismayd 
More for the love which he had left behynd, 
Then that which he had to Sir Paridel resynd. 

Nathlesse he forth did march, well as he might. 
And made good semblance to his companie. 
Dissembling his disease and evill plight ; 
Till that ere long they chaunced to espie 
Two other knights, that towards them did ply 
With speedie course, as bent to charge them new: 
Whom whenas Blandamour approching nie 
Perceiv'd to be such%s they seemd in vew. 
He was full wo, and gan his former griefe renew. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 419 

For tK* one of them lie perfectly descride 
To be Sir Scudaraour, (by that lie bore ^ 
The god of love with wiags displayed wide,) 
Whom mortally he hated evermore. 
Both for his worth, that all men did adore. 
And eke because his love he wonne by right : 
Which when he thought, it grieved him full sore. 
That, through the bruses of his former fight. 
He now unable was to wreake his old despight. 

Forthy he thus to Paridel bespake : 

" Faire Sir, of friendship let me now you pray. 

That as I late adveutured for your sake. 

The hurts whereof me now from battell stay. 

Ye will me now with like good turne repay. 

And iustifie my cause on yonder knight." 

" Ah ! Sir,'* said Paridel, " do not dismay 

Yourselfe for this ; myselfe will for you fight. 

As ye have done for me : The left hand rubs the right.** 

With that he put his spurres unto his steed. 

With speare in rest, and toward him did fare, 

Like shaft out of a bow preventing speed. 

But Scudamour was shortly well aware 

Of his approch, and gan himselfe prepare 

Him to receive with entertainment meete. 

So furiously they met, that either bare 

The other downe under their horses feete. 

That what of them became themselves did scarsly weete. 

As when two billowes in the Irish sowndes. 

Forcibly driven with contrarie tydes, 

Do meete together, each abacke rebowndes 

With roaring rage ; and dashing on all sides. 

That filleth all the sea with fome, divydes 

The doubtful! current ijito divers wayes : 

So fell those two in spight of both their prydes ; 

But Scudamour himselfe did soone uprayse, 

And, mounting light, his foe for lying long upbrayes. 

Who, rolled on an heape, lay stil in swound 
All carelesse of his taunt and bitter rayle ; 
Till that the rest him seeing lie on ground 
Ean hastily, to weete what did him ayle : 
Where finding that the breath gan him to fayl^ 
With busie care they strove him to awake, 
And doft his helmet, and undid his mayle : 
So much they did, that at the last they brake 
Uis slomber, 3^et so mazed that he nothing spake. 



420 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Whicli whenas Blandamour belield, lie sayd ; 

"Palse faitour Scudamour, that hast by slight 

And foule advantage this good knight dismayd, 

A knight mucli better then thyselfe behight. 

Well falles it thee that I am not in plight 

This day, to wreake the dammage by thee donne! 

Such is thy wont, that still when any knight 

Is weakned, then thou doest him overronne : 

So hast thou to thyselfe false honour often wonne.** 

He little answer'd, but m manly heart 

His mightie indignation did forbeare ; 

Which was not [y-et so secret, but some part 

Thereof did in his frouning face appeare : 

Like as a gloomie cloud, the which doth bearo 

An hideous storme, is by the northerne blast 

Quite overblowne, yet dotli not passe so cleare 

But that it all the skie doth overcast 

With darknes dred, and threatens all the world to wast. 

*'Ah! gentle knight," then false Duessa sayd, 
** Why do ye strive for ladies love so sore. 
Whose chiefe desire is love and friendly aid 
Mongst gentle knights to nourish evermore ! 
Ne be ye wroth. Sir Scudamour, therefore. 
That she your love list love another knight, 
ISTe do yourselfe dislike a whit the more ; 
For love is free, and led with selfe-delight, 
l^e wiU enforced be with maisterdome or might.*' 

So false Duessa : but vile Ate thus : 

*' Both foolish knights, I can but laugh at both. 

That strive and storme with stirre outrageous 

For her, that each of you alike doth loth, 

And loves another, with whom now she go'th 

In lovely wise, and sleepes, and sports, and playesj 

Whilest both you here with many a cursed oth 

Sweare she is yours, and stirre up bloudie frayes, 

To win a willow bough, whilest other weares the bayes* 

•*Yile hag," sayd Scudamour, "why dost thou lye. 

And falsly seekst a virtuous wight to shame ?" 

*• Fond knight," sayd she", "the thing that with this eye 

I saw, why should I doubt to tell the same?" 

" Then tell," quoth Blandamour, " and feare no blame; 

Tell what thou saw'st, maulgre whoso it heares." 

" I saw," quoth she, '' a straunger knight, whose name 

I wote not well, but in his shield he beares 

(That well I wote) the heads of many broken spearea j 



THE FAERIE QUEENE, 421 

*' I saw him have your Amoret at will ; 
I saw him kisse ; I saw him her embrace; 
I saw him sleepe with her all night his fill; ^ 
All, manie nights ; and manie by in place 
That present were to testifie the case." 
Which whenas Scudamour did heare, his heart 
Was thrild with inward griefe: as when in chace 
The Parthian strikes a stag with shivering dart, 
The beast astonisht stands in middest of his smart 5 

So stood Sir Scudamour when this he heard, 
ISTe word he had to speake for great dismay. 
But lookt on Glance grim, who woxe afeard 
Of outrage for the words which she heard say, 
Albee untrue she wist them by assay. 
But Blandamour, whenas he did es pie 
His chaunge of cheere that anguish did bewray, 
He woxe full blithe, as he had got thereby,^ 
And gan thereat to triumph without victoria. 

" Lo ! recreant," sayd he, "the fruitlesse end 
Of thy vaine boast, and spoile of love misgotten, 
Whereby the name of knight-hood thou dost shend, 
And all true lovers with dishonor blotten : 
All things not rooted well will soone be rotten." 
'*Fy, fy, false knight," then false Duessa cryde, 
" Unworthy life, that love with guile hast gotten ; 
Be thou, whereever thou do go or ryde. 
Loathed of ladies all, and of aR knights defyde !" 

But Scudamour, for passing. great despight. 
Staid not to answer; scarcely'* did refraine 
But that in all those knights and ladies sight 
He for revenge had guiltlesse Glance slaine : 
But, being past, he thus began amaine; 
" False traitour squire, false squire of falsest knight, 
Why doth mine hand from thine avenge abstaine, 
Whose lord hath done my love this foule despigiit! 
Why do I not it wre'ake on thee now in my might t 

" Discourteous, disloyall Britomart, 
Untrue to God, and unto man uniiist ! 
What vengeance due can equall thy desart, 
That hast with shamefuU spot of sinfull lust 
Defil'd the pledge committed to thy trust ! 
Let ugly shame and endlesse infamy 
Colour thy name with foule reproaches rust ! 
Yet thou, false squire, his fault shall deare aby, 
And. with thy punishment his penance shalt supply. 
19 



422 THE FAEEIE QUEENE, 

The aged datne him seeing so enraged 

Was dead with feare ; nathlesse as neede required 

His flaming fiirie sought to have assuaged 

"With sober wdl'ds, that sufferance desired 

Till time the tryall of her truth expyred ; 

And evermore sought Britomart to cleare : 

But he the more vrith furious rage was fyred. 

And thrise his hand to kill her did upreare, 

And thrise he drew it backe : so did at last forbeara. 



CANTO n. 

Blandamour winnes false Florimell ; 

Paridell for her strives : 
They are accorded : Agap& 

Doth lengthen her sonnes lives. 

FiBEBBAND of hell first tynd in Phlegeton 

By thousand furies, and from thence out-throwen 

Into this world to worke confusion 

And set it all on fire by force unknowen, 

Is wicked Discord ; whose small sparkes once blowen 

None but a god or godlike man can slake; 

Such as was Orpheus, that, when strife was growen 

Amongst those famous ympes of Greece, did take 

His silver harpe in hand and shortly friendes them make : 

Or such as that celestiall psalmist was. 

That, when the wicked feend his lord tormented. 

With heavenly notes, that did all other pas, 

The outrage of his furious fit relented. 

Such musicke is wise words with time cqncented^ 

To moderate stifie mindes disposd to strive : 

Such as that prudent Romane well invented ; 

What time his people into partes did rive. 

Them reconcyld againe, and to their homes did drive. 

Such us'd wise Glance to that wrathfull knight. 
To calme the tempest of his troubled thought : 
Yet Blandamour, with termes of foule despight. 
And Paridell her scornd, and set at nought, 
As old and crooked and not good for ought. 
Both they unwise, and warelesse of the evill 
That by themselves imto themselves is wrought, 
Through that false witch, and that foule aged drevill ; 
The one a feend, the other an incarnate devill. 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 423 

With wliom as they thus rode accompanide, 
TJiey were encountred of a lustie knight 
That had a goodly ladie by his side, 
To whom he made great dalliance and delight : 
It was to weet the bold Sir Ferraugh hight, 
He that from Braggadochio whilome reft 
The snowy Florimell, whose beautie bright 
Made him seeme happie for so glorious tiieffc; 
Yet was it ui due triall but a wandring weft. 

Which whenas Blandamour, whose fancie light 

Was alwaies flitting as the wavering wind 

After each beautie that appeard in sight. 

Beheld ; eftsoones it prickt his wanton mind 

With sting of lust that reasons eye did bhnd. 

That to Sir Paridell these words he sent ; 

** Sir knight, why ride ye dumpish thus behind. 

Since so good fortune doth to you present ^ 

So fayre a spoyle, to make you ioyous meriment ?" 

But Paridell, that had too late a try all 
Of the bad issue of his counsell vaine. 
List not to hearke, but made this faire denyaH ; 
" Last turne was mine, well proved to my paine ; 
This now be yours ; God send you better gaine 1" 
Whose scoffed words he taking halfe in scorne. 
Fiercely forth prickt his steed as in disdaine 
Against that knight, ere he him well could torne; 
By meanes whereof he hath him hghtly overborne. 

Who, with the sudden stroke astonisht sore, 

Upon the ground awhile in slomber lay; 

The whiles his love away the other bore, i 

And, shewing her, did Paridell upbray; 

" Lo ! sluggish knight, the victors happie pray! 

So fortune friends the bold." Whom Paridell 

Seeing so faire indeede, as he did say. 

His hart with secret envie gan to swell, 

And inly grudge at him that ho had sped so well. 

Nathlesse proud man himselfe the other deemed. 

Having so peerlesse paraxon ygot : 

For sure the fayrest Florimell him seemed 

To him was fallen for his happie lot. 

Whose like alive on earth he weened not : 

Therefore he her did court, did serve, did wooe, 

With humblest suit that he imagine mot. 

And all things did devise, and all things dooe, 

That might her love prepare, and liking win theretoo. 



424 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

She, in regard thereof, Iiim recompense 

With golden words and goodly countenance. 

And such fond favours sparingly dispenst : 

Sometimes him blessing with a light eye-glance. 

And co3^ lookes tempring with loose dalliance; 

Sometimes estranging him in sterner wise; 

That, having cast him in a foolish trance, 

He seemed brought to bed in Paradise, " 

And prov'd himself most foole in what seem*d most wise. 

So great a mistresse of her art she was, 

And perfectly practiz'd in womans craft, 

That though therein himselfe he thought to pas. 

And by this false allurements wylie draft 

Had thousand w^omen of their love b era ft, 

Yet now he was surpriz'd : for that false spright, 

Which that same wdtch had in this forme engraft. 

Was so expert in every subtile slight, 

That it could overreach the wisest earthly wight. 

Yet he to her did dayly service more. 

And dayly more deceived was thereby; 

Yet Paridell Iiim envied therefore. 

As seeming plast in sole fehcity: 

So blind is lust false colours to descry. 

But Ate soone discovering his desire. 

And finding now fit opportunity 

To stir re up strife twixt love and spight and ire. 

Did privily put coles unto his secret fire. 

"By sundry meanes thereto she prickt him forth ; 

Is'ow with remembrance of those spightfull speaches, 

ISfow with opinion of his owne more worth, 

Now with recounting of like former breaches 

Made in their friendship, as that hag him teaches : 

And ever, when his passion is allayd, 

She it revives, and new occasion reaches : 

That, on a time as they together way'd, 

He made him open chalenge, and thus boldly sayd;. 

** Too boastfull Blandamour ! too long I beare 

The open wrongs thou doest me day by day: 

Well know^'st thou, when we friendship first did sweare 

The covenant was, that every spoyle or pray 

Should equally be shard betwixt us tway: 

Where is my part then of this ladie bright. 

Whom to thyselfe thou takest quite away? 

[Render therefore therein to me my right, 

Or answere for thy wrong as shall fall out in fight." 



THE FAEBIE QTTEENE, 425 

Exceeding wrotli thereat was Blandamoiir, 

And ffan this bitter answere to him make ; 

" Too foolish Pari dell ! that fay rest floure 

Wouldst gather faine, and yet no paines wouldst take : 

Eiit not so easie will I her forsake ; 

Tiiis hand her wonne, that hand shall her defend." 

Wifch that they gan their shivering speares to shake. 

And deadly points at eithers breast to bend, 

Forgetfull each to have bene ever others frend. 

Their firie steedes with so untamed forse 

Did beare them both to fell avenges end, 

That both their speares with pitilesse remorse 

Through shield and mayle and haberieon did wend. 

And in their flesh a griesly passage rend, 

That with the furie of their owne affret 

Each other horse and man to ground did send; 

"Where, lying still awhile, both did forget 

The perilous present stownd in which their lives were set. 

As when two warlike brigandines at sea, 

With murdrous weapons arm'd to cruell fight. 

Do meete together on the watry lea, 

They stemme ech other with so fell despight, 

That with the shocke of their owne heedlesse might 

Their wooden ribs are shaken nigh asonder ; 

They which from shore behold the dreadful! sight 

Of flashing fire, and heare the ordenance thonder. 

Do greatly stand amaz'd at such unwonted wonder. 

At length they both upstarted in amaze. 

As men awaked rashly out of dreme. 

And round about themselves a while did gaze; 

Till seeing her, that Elorimell did seme, 

In doubt to whom she victorie should deeme, 

Tiierewith their dulled sprights they edgd anew, 

And, drawing both their swords with rage extreme. 

Like two mad mastifles each on other flew, [hew. 

And shields did share, and mailes did rash, and helmcs did 

So furiously each other did assayle, 

As if their soules they would attonce have rent 

Out of their brests, that streames of bloud did rayle 

Adowne, as if their springs of life were spent; 

That all the ground with purple bloud was sprcnt, 

And all their armours staynd with bloudie gore ; 

Yet scarcely once to breath would they relent. 

So mortall was their malice and so sore 

Become, of fayned friendship which they vow'd afore. 



426 THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 

And that whicli is for ladies most befittiDg, 

To stint all strife, and foster friendly peace, ^ 

Was from those dames so farre and so unfitting. 

As that, instead of praying them surcease, 

They did much more their cruelty encrease ; 

Bidding them fight for honour of their love, 

And rather die then ladies cause release : 

With which vaine termes so much they did them more. 

That both resolv'd the last extremities to prove. 

There they, I "weene, would fight untill this day, 
Had not a squire, even he the squire of dames, 
3y great adventure travelled that way ; 
Who seeing both bent to sc bloudy games, 
And both of old vrell knowing by their names, 
Drew nigh, to weete the cause of their debate : 
And first laide on those ladies thousand blames, 
That did not seeke t' appease their deadly hate. 
But gazed on their harmes not pittying their estate. 

And then those knights he humbly did beseecli 

To stay their hands, till he awhile had spoken : 

Who lookt a little up at that his speech, 

Yet would not let their battell so be broken. 

Both greedie fiers on other to be wroken. 

Yet lie to them so earnestly did call. 

And them coniur'd by some well knowen token. 

That they at last their wrothfull hands let fall. 

Content to heare him speake, and glad to rest withall. 

First he desir'd their cause of strife to see : 

They said, it was for love of Florimell. 

"All ! gentle knights," quoth he, " how may that bee. 

And she so farre astraj^ as none can tell?" 

"Fond squire," fuU angry then sayd Paridell, 

" Seest not the ladie there before th^^ face ?" 

He looked backe, and, her avising well, 

Weend, as he said, by that her outward grace 

That fayrest Florimell was present there in place. 

Glad man was he to see that ioyous sight, 
For none alive but ioy'd in Florimell, 
And lowly to her low ting thus behight ; 
** 1 ayrest of faire, that fairenesse doest excell, 
This happie day 1 have to greete you well. 
In whicli you safe I see, ^A hom thoursand late 
Misdoubted lost through mischiefe that befvU; 
Long niay you live in health and happie state!" 
^he litle answer'd him, but lightly did aggrate. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 457 

Then, turning to those knights, he gan anew ; 

** And you, Sir Blandamour, and Parideli, 

That for this ladie present in your vew 

Have rays'd this cruell warre and outrage fell, 

Certes, me seemes, bene not advised well ; 

J3ut rather ought in friendsliip for her sake 

To ioyne your force, their forces to repell 

That seeke perforce her from you both to take, 

And of your gotten spoyle their owne triumph to make." 

Thereat vSir Blandamour, with countenance sterne 

All full of wrath, thus fiercely him bespake ; 

** Aread, thou squire, that I the man may learne. 

That dare fro me thinke Florimell to take !" 

"JN'ot one," quoth he, "but many doe partake 

Herein ; as thus : it lately so befell, 

That Satyran a girdle did uptake 

Well knowne to appertaine to Florimell, 

Which for her sake he wore, as him beseemed welL 

" But, whenas she herselfe was lost and gone, 

Full many knights, that loved her like deare. 

Thereat did greatly grudge, that he alone 

That lost faire ladies ornament should weare, 

And gan therefore close spight to him to beare ; 

Whicli he to shun, and stop vile envies sting, 

Hath lately caus'd to be proclaim'd each where 

A solemne feast, with publike turneying. 

To which all knights with them their ladies are to bring : 

**And of them all, she that is fayrest found. 

Shall have that golden girdle for reward ; 

And of those knights, who is most stout on ground. 

Shall to that fairest ladie be prefard. 

Since therefore she herselfe is now your ward, 

To you that ornament of hers pertaines. 

Against all those that chalenge it, to gard, 

And save her honour with your ventrous paines ; 

That shall you win more glory than ye here find j^jaines.** 

When they the reason of his words had hard. 
They gan abate the rancour of their rage, 
And with their honours and their loves regard 
The furious flames of malice to ass wage. 
Tho each to other did his faith engage, 
Like faithfull friends thenceforth to ioyne in one 
With all their force, and battell strong to wage 
Gainst all those knights, as tlieir professed fone, 
That chaleng'd ought in Florimell, save they alone. 



428 THE FAEEIE QTJEENB. 

So, well accorded, fortli tliey rode together 

In friendly sort, that lasted but a while ; 

And of all old dislikes they made faire weatlier: 

Yet all was for^'d and spred witli golden foyle, 

That under it hidde hate and hollow guyle. 

"Ne certes can that friendsliip lofig endure, 

However gay and goodly be the style, 

That doth ill cause or evill end enure : 

For vertue is the band that bindeth harts most sure. 

Tlius as they inarched all in close disguise 

Of fayned love, they chaunst to overtake 

Two knights that lincked rode in lovely wise, 

As if they secret counsels did partake; 

And each not farre beh.inde him had his make, 

To weete, two ladies of most goodly hew. 

That twixt themselves did gentle purpose make, 

Unmindfull both of that discordfull crew. 

The which with speedie pace did after them pursew : 

Who, as they now approched nigh at hand. 

Deeming them doughtie as they did appeare. 

They sent that squire afore, to understand 

What mote they be : who, viewing them more neare, 

Hetnrned readie newes, that those same weare 

Two of the prowest knights in Faery Lond ; 

And these two ladies their two lovers deare; 

Couragions Cambell, and stout Triamond, 

With Canacee and Cambine linckt in lovely bond. 

Whylome, as antique stories tellen us. 
Those two were foes the fellonest on ground, 
And battell made the dreddest daungerous 
That ever shrilling trumpet did resound ; 
Though now their acts be no where to be found. 
As that renowmed poet them compyled 
With warlike numbers and heroicke sound, 
Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled. 
On fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled. 

But wicked time that all good thoughts doth waste. 

And workes of noblest wits to nought outweare. 

That famous moniment hath quite defaste. 

And robd the world of threasure endlesse deare, 

The which mote have enriched all us heare. 

O cursed eld, the canker-worme of writs ! 

How may these rimes, so rude as doth appeare, 

Hope to endure, sith workes of heavenly -v^its 

Arc quite devourd, and brought to nought by little bital 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 429 

Then pardon, O most sacred happie spirit, 

Tiiat I thy labours lost may thus revive. 

And steale from thee the meedo of thy due merit, 

That none durst ever whilest thou wast alive. 

And, being dead, in vaine yet many strive : 

!Ne dare 1 like ; but, through infusion sweete 

Of thine owne spirit which doth in me survive, 

I follow here the footing of thy feete. 

That with thy meaning so I may the rather meeto. 

Cambelloes sister was fayre Canacee, 

That was the learnedst ladie in her dayes, 

"Well scene in everie science that mote bee, 

And every secret worke of nature's wayes ; 

In wittie riddles ; and in wise soothsayes ; 

In power of herbes ; and tunes of beasts and burds ; 

And, that augmented all her other prayse. 

She modest was in all her deedes and words. 

And wondrous chast of life, yet lov'd of knights and loi'ds. 

Full many lords and many kniffhts her loved. 

Yet she to none of them her liking lent, 

Ne ever was with fond affection moved. 

But rul'd her thoughts with goodly governeracnt. 

For dread of blame and honours blemishment; 

And eke unto her lookes a law she made. 

That none of them once out of order w^ent. 

But, like to warie centonels well stayd, 

Still watcht on every side, of secret foes afrayd, 

So much the more as she refusd to love, 

So much the more she loved was and sought. 

That oftentimes unquiet strife did move 

Amongst her lovers, and great quarrels w^rought ; 

That oft for her in bloudie armes they fought. 

Which whenas Cambell, that was stout and wise, 

Perceiv'd would breede ^reat mischiefe, he bethought 

How to prevent the peril 1 that mote rise. 

And turne both him and her to honour in this wise* 

One day, when all that troupe of warlike wooers 
Assembled were, to weet whose she should bee, 
All mightie men and dreadfull derring dooers, 
(The harder it to make them w^ell agree,) 
Amongst them all this end he did decree ; 
That, of them all which love to her did make, 
They by consent should chose the stoutest throe 
That with himsclfe should combat for her sake. 
And of them all the victour should his sister take. 



4^0 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

Bold was tlie cTialenge, as himselfe was bold. 

And courage full ofhauglitie bardiment, 

Approved oft in x^erils manifold, 

Wbicb be atcbiev'd to bis great ornament : 

But yet bis sisters skill unto bim lent 

Most confidence and bope of bappie speed, 

Conceived by a ring wbicb sbe bim sent, 

Tbat, mongst tbe manie vertues wbicb we reed, 

Had power to stauncb al wounds tbat mortally did bked. 

^^ell was tbat rings great vertue knowen to all ; 
Tbat dread thereof, and bis redoubted migbt, 
Did all tbat youtbly rout so mucb appall, 
Tbat none of tbem durst imdertake tbe figbt : 
More ■s^ise tbey weend to make of love deligbt 
Tben life to bazard for faire ladies looke ; 
And yet uncertain e by sucb outward sigbt, 
Tbougb for ber sake tbey all tbat perill tooke, 
\^'betber sbe would tbem love, or in ber liking brooke. 

Amongst tbose knigbts tbere were tbree bretbren bold, 
Tbree bolder bretbren never were y borne, 
Borne of one motber in one bappie miOld, 
Borne at one burden in one bappie morne ; 
Tlirise bappie motber, and tbrise bappie morne, 
Tbat bore tbree sucb, tbree sucb not to be fond! 
Her name was Agape, wbose children werne 
All tbree as one ; tbe first bigbt Priamond, 
Tbe second Dyamond, tbe yoimgest Triamond. 

Stout Priamond, but not so strong to strike; 

Strong Diamond, but not so stout a knigbt j 

But Triamond was stout and strong alike: 

On borsebacke used Triamond to tight, 

And Priamond on foote bad more deligbt ; 

But borse and foote knew Diamond to wield : 

Witb curtaxe used Diamond to smite, 

And Triamond to handle speare and sbield, ^ 

But speare and curtaxe botb usd Priamond in field. 

Tbese tbree did love eacb otber dearely well, 
And witb so firme affection were allyde. 
As if but one soule in tbem all did dwell, 
Wbicb did ber powre into tbree parts divyde; 
Like three faire brandies budding farre and wide, 
Tbat from one roote deriv'd tbeir vitall sap : 
And, like tbat roote that dotb ber life divide, 
Tbeir motber was ; and bad full blessed bap 
Tiiese tbree so noble babes to bring fortb at one clap. 



THE FAERIE QTJEENE. 431 

Their mother was a fay, and had the skill 

Of secret things, and all the povvres of nature. 

Which she by art could use unto her will. 

And to her service bind each living creature, 

Through secret understanding of their feature. 

Thereto she was right faire, whenso her face 

She list discover, and of goodly stature; 

But she, as fayes are wont, in privie place 

^Did spend her dayes, and lov'd in forests wyld to space. 

There on a day a noble youthly knight. 

Seeking adventures in the salvage wood. 

Did by great fortune get of her the sight, 

As she sate carelesse by a cristall flood. 

Combing her golden lockes, as seemd her good; 

And unawares upon her laying hold, 

That strove in vaine him long to have withstood. 

Oppressed her, and there (as it is told) [bold : 

Got these three lovely babes, that prov'd three champions 

Which she with her long fostred in that wood, 

Till that to ripenesse of mans state they grew: 

Then, shemng forth signes of their fathers blood, 

They loved armes, and knighthood did ensew, 

Seeking adventures where they anie knew. 

Which when their mother saw, she gan to dout 

Their safetie ; least by searching daungers new 

And rash provoking perils all about, . 

Their days mote be abridged through their corage stout. 

Therefore desirous th* end of all their dayes 
Toiknow, and them t' enlarge with long extent. 
By wondrous skill and many hidden wayes 
To the three fatall sisters house she went ; 
Farre under ground from tract of living went, 
Downe in the bottome of the deepe abysse. 
Where Demogorgon in dull darknesse pent 
Farre from the view of gods and heavens bliss 
The hideous chaos keepes, their dreadfull dwelling is. 

There she them found all sitting round about. 

The direful! distaffe standing in the mid, 

And with unwearied fingers drawing out 

The lines of life, from living knowledge hid. 

Sad Clotho held the rocke, the whiles the thrid 

By griesly Lachesis was spun with paine, 

That cruell Atropos eftsoones undid, 

With cursed knife cutting the twist in twainc : 

Most wretched men, whose dayes depend on thrids so vaine I 



432 THE PAEEIE QUEENE. 

She, tliem saluting there, by tliem sate still, 

Beholding how the thrids of life they span: 

And when at last she had beheld her fill, 

Trembling in heart, and looking pale and wan, 

Her cause of comming she to tell began. 

To whom fierce Atropos ; " Eold fay, that durst 

Come see the secret of the life of man. 

Well worthie thou to be of love accurst. 

And eke thy childrens thrids to be asunder burst I*' 

Whereat she sore afirayd yet her besought 

To graunt her boone, and rigour to abate. 

That she might see her childrens thrids forth brought. 

And know the measure of their utmost date 

To them ordained by eternall fate : 

Which Clotho graunting shewed her the same. 

That when she saw, it did her much amate 

To see their thrids so thin, as spiders frame, 

And eke so short, that seemd their ends out shortly came. 

She then began them humbly to intreate 

To draw them longer out, and better twine. 

That so their lives might be prolonged late : 

But Lachesis thereat gan to repine. 

And sayd; "Eond dame ! that deem'st of things divino 

As of humane, that they may altred bee. 

And chaung'd at pleasure for those impes of thine : 

"Not so ; for what the fates do once decree, 

iNot all the gods can chaunge, nor love himself can free ! 

*' Then since,** quoth she, ** the terme of each mans life 
!For nought may lessened nor enlarged bee ; 
Graunt this ; that when ye shred with fatall knife 
His line, which is the eldest of the three, 
Which is of them the shortest, as I see, 
Eftsoones his life may passe into the next ; 
And, when the next shall likewise ended bee. 
That both their lives may likewise be annext 
Unto the third, that his may be so trebly wext." 

They graunted it ; and then that carefull Fay 
Departed thence with full contented mynd ; 
And, comming home, in warlike fresh aray 
Them found all three according to their k3Tid ; 
But unto them what destinie was assynd. 
Or how their lives were eekt, she did not tell ; 
But evermore, when she fit time could fynd, 
She warned them to tend their safeties well. 
And love each other deare, whatever them befell. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 433 

So did they surely during all tlieir dayes, 
And never discord did amongst them fallj 
Which much augmented all their other praise : 
And now, t' increase affection natural!, 
In love of Canacee they ioyned all : 
Upon which ground this same great battell grew, 
(Great matter growing of beginning small,) 
The which, for length, I will not here pursew, 
But rather will reserve it for a canto new. 



CANTO III. 

The Battell twixt three brethren with 

Cambell for Canacee : 
Cambina with true friendships bond 

Doth their long strife agree. 

O ! WHY doe wretched men so much desire 

To draw their dayes unto the utmost date, 

And doe not rather wish them soone expire ; 

Knowing the miserie of their estate. 

And thousand periUs which them still awate, 

Tossing them like a boate amid the mayne. 

That every houre they knocke at Deathes gate I 

And he that hap pie seemes and least in payne. 

Yet is as nigh as his end as he that most doth playnft 

Therefore this fay I hold but fond and vaine. 

The which, in seeking for her children three 

Long life, thereby did more prolong their paine: 

Yet whilest they lived none did ever see 

More happie creatures then they seem'd to bee ; 

Nor more ennobled for their courtesie. 

That made them dearely lov'd of each degree ; 

Ne more renowmcd for their chevalrie. 

That made them dreaded much of all men farre and nie. 

These three that hardie chalenge tooke in hand. 
For Canacee with Cambell for to fight : 
The day was set, that all might understand, 
And pledges pawnd the same to keepe aright : 
That day, (the drcddest day that living wight 
Did ever see upon this world to shine,) 
So soone as heavens window shewed light,^ 
These warlike champions, all in armour sliine, 
Assembled were in field the chalenge to define. 



434 THE FAEEIE QITEENE. 

The field with listes was all about enclosed. 

To barre the prease of people farre away ; 

And at th' one side sixe iudges were dispos'd, 

To view and deeme the deedes of armes that day; 

And on the other side in fresh aray 

Fayre Canacee upon a stately stage 

Was set, to see the fortune of that fray 

And to be seene, as his most worthy wage 

That could her purchase with his live's adventur'd gcge. 

Then entred Cambell first into the list. 

With stately steps and fearelesse countenance. 

As if the conquest his he surely wist. 

Soone after did the brethren three advance 

In brave aray and goodly amenance, 

With scutchins gilt and banners broad displayd j 

And, marching thrise in warlike ordinance, 

Thrise lowted lowly to the noble Mayd ; 

The whiles shril trompets and loud clarions sweetly playi 

Which, doen, the doughty chalenger came forth. 

All arm'd to point, his chalenge to abet : 

Gainst whom Sir Priamond, with equall worth 

And equall armes, himselfe did forward set. 

A trompet blew ; they both together met 

With dreadfull force and furious intent, 

Carelesse of perill in their fiers afiret. 

As if that life to losse they had forelent, 

And cared not to spare that should be shortly spent. 

Bight practickc was Sir Priamond in fight, 
And throughly skild in use of shield and spearej 
'Ne lesse approved was Cambelloes might, 
J^e lesse his skill in weapons did appeare; 
That hard it was to weene which harder were. 
Full many mightie strokes on either side 
Were sent, that seemed death in them to beare; 
But they were both so watchfull and well eyde. 
That they avoyded were, and vainely by did slyde. 

Yet one, of many, was so strongly bent 

By Priamond, that with unluclde glaunce 

Through Cambels shoulder it unwarely went. 

That forced him his shield to disadvaunce: 

Much was he grieved with that gracelesse chaunce ; 

Yet from the wound no drop of bloud there fell, 

But wondrous paine that did the more enhaunce 

His haughtie courage to avengement fell : [swelL 

Smart daunts not mighty harts, but makes them more 



THE PAEEIE QTTEEN15. 435 

With that, his poynant speare he fierce aventred 

With doubled force close underneath his shield, 

That through the mayles into his thigh it entred, 

Anc', there arresting, readie way did yield 

For bloud to gush forth on the grassie field ; 

That he for paine himselfe n*ot right upreare, 

I^ufc to and fro in great amazement reel'd ; 

Like an old oke, whose pith and sap is scare, 

At pufie of every storme doth stagger here and theare. 

Whom so dismay d when Cambell had espide, 
Againe he drove at him with double might, 
That nought mote stay the Steele, till in his side 
The mortall point most cruelly empiijht ; 
Where fast infixed, whilest he sought by slight 
It forth to wrest, the stafFe asunder brake. 
And left the head behinde: with which despight 
He all enrag'd his shivering speare did shake, 
And charging him afresh thus felly him bespake: 

** Lo ! faitour, there thy meede unto thee take. 
The meede of thy mischalenge and abet : 
Not for thine owne, but for thy sisters sake, 
Have I thus long thy life unto thee let : 
But to forbeare doth not forgive the det.** 
The wicked weapon heard his wrathfull vow; 
And, passing forth with furious afiret, 
Pierst through his bever quite into his brow. 
That with the force it backward forced him to bow. 

Therewith asunder in the midst it brast, 

And in his Hand nought but the troncheon left; 

The other halfe behind yet sticking fast 

Out of his head-peece Cambell fiercely reft. 

And with such furie backe at him heft, 

That, making way unto his clearest Yii'ef 

His weasand-pipe it through his gorget cleftt 

Thence streames of purple bloud issuing rife 

Let forth his wearie ghost, and made an end of strife. 

His wearie ghost assoyld from fleshly band 

Did not, as others wont, directly fly 

Unto her rest in Plutoesgriesly land; 

"No into ay re did vanish presently; 

ISTe chaunged was into a starre in sky ; 

But through traduction was eftsoones derived. 

Like as his mother prayed the Destinie, 

Into his other brethren that survived. 

In whom he hv'd anew, of former life deprived. 



435 THE FAERIE QTJEENE, 

Whom wlien on gronnd liis brotlier next belield. 

Though sad and sorrie for so heavy sisht, 

Yet leave unto his sorrow did not yeeld ; 

But rather stir'd to vengeance and despight. 

Through secret feehng of his generous spright, 

Eusht fiercely forth, the batteil to renew, 

As in reversion of his brothers right ; 

And chalenging the virgin as his dew. 

His foe was soone addrest: the trompets freshly blew. 

"With that they both together fiercely met, 

As if that each ment other to devoure; 

And with their axes both so sorely bet, 

That nether plate nor mayle, whereas their powre 

They felt, could once sustaine the hideous stowre, 

But rived were, like rotten wood, asunder; 

Whilest through their rifts. the ruddie bloud did showre^ 

And fire did flash, like lightning after thunder, 

That fild the lookers on attonce with ruth and wonder. 

As when two tygers prickt with hungers rage 

Have by good fortune found some beasts fresh spoyle. 

On which they weene their famine to asswage, 

And gaine a feastfuU guerdon of their to.yle; 

Both falling out doe stirre up strifefull broyle. 

And cruel! batteil twixt themselves doe make, 

A^^hiles neither lets the other touch the soyle. 

But either sdeigns with other to partake : 

So cruelly those knights strove for that ladies sake. 

Full many strokes, that mortally were ment, 

The whiles were interchaunged twixt them two; 

Yet they were all witli so good wariment 

Or warded, or avoyded and let goe. 

That still the life stood fearelesse of her foe; 

Till Diamond, disdeigning long delay 

Of doubtfull fortune wavering to and fro, 

llesolv'd to end it one or other way; 

And heav'd his murdrous axe at him with mighty sway, 

Tlie dreadfull stroke, in case it had arrived 

Where it was ment, (so deadly it was ment,) 

The soule had sure out of his body rived. 

And stinted all the strife incontinent; 

But Cambels fate that fortune did prevent: 

For, seeing it at hand, he swarv'd asyde. 

And so gave way unto his fell intent ; 

Who, missing of the marke which he had eyde, 

Was with the force nigh feld whilst his right foot did sly de. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 437 

As wlien a vulture greedie of his pray, 

TJirougli hunger long that hart to him dotli lend, 

Strilces at an deron with all his bodies sway, 

That from his force seemes nought may it defend ; 

The warie fowle, that spies him toward bend 

His dreadfnll souse, avoydes it, shunning light. 

And maketh him his wing in vaine to spend ; 

That with the weight of his owne weeldlesse mighty 

He falleth nigh to ground, and scarse recoveretli flight. 

Which faire adventure wlien Cambello spide. 
Full lightly, ere himselfe he could recower 
From daungers dread to ward his naked side, 
He can let drive at him with all his power. 
And with his axe him smote in evill hower, 
That from his shoulders quite his head he reffc : 
The headlesse tronke, as heedlesse of that stower. 
Stood still awhile, and his fast footing kept; 
Till, feeling life to fayle, it fell, and deadly slept. 

They, which that piteous spectacle beheld. 
Were much amaz'd the headlesse tronke to see 
Stand up so long and weapon vaine to weld, 
Unweeting of the Fates divine decree 
For lifes succession in those brethren three. 
For notwithstanding that one soule was reft. 
Yet had the bodie not dismembred bee. 
It would have lived, and revived eft; ^ 
But, finding no fit seat, the lifelesse corse it left. 

It left ; but that same soule which therein dwelt, 

Streight entring into Triamond him fild 

With double life and griefe ; which when he felt. 

As one whose inner parts had bene ythrild 

With point of Steele that close his hartbloud spild. 

He lightly'- Icpt out of his place of rest, 

And, rushing forth into the emptie field. 

Against Cambello fiercely him addrest; 

Who, him afironting soone, to fight was readie prest. 

Well mote ye wonder how that noble knight. 
After he had so often wounded beene. 
Could stand on foot now to renew the fight: 
But had ye then him forth advauncing scene, 
Some new borne wight ye would him surely weene; 
So fresh he seemed and so fierce in sight ; 
Like as a snake, whom wearie winters teene 
Hath worne to nought, now feeling sommers mi^ht, 
Casts off his ragged skin and freshly doth him dighfc. 



^S THE FAERIE QTTEENB. 

All was, tlirougli vertue of tlie ring he wore i 
The which not onely did not from him let 
One drop of bloud to fail, but did restore 
His weakned powers, and dulled spirits whet, 
Through working of the stone therein yset. 
Else how could one of equail might with most. 
Against so many no lesse mightie met, 
Once thinke to match three such on equail cost, 
Three such as able were to match a puissant host? 

Yet nought thereof was Triamond adredde, 

"Ne desperate of glorious victorie ; 

But sharpely him assayld, and sore bestedde 

With heapes of strokes, which he at him let flie 

As thicke as hayle forth poured from the skie : 

He stroke, he soust, he foynd, he hewd, he lasht. 

And did his yron brond so fast applie, 

That from the same the fierie sparkles flasht, 

As fast as water-sprinkles gainst a rocke are dasht. 

Much was Cambello daunted with his blowes; 
So thicke they fell, and forcibly were sent, 
That he was forst from daunger of the throwes 
Backe to retire, and somewhat to relent, 
Till th* heat of his fierce furie he had spent : 
Which when for want of breath gan to abate. 
He then afresh with new encouragement 
Did him assayle, and mightily amate, 
As fast, as forward erst, now backward to retrate. 

Like as the tide, that comes fro th* ocean mayne, 
Flowes up the Shenan with contrarie forse. 
And, over-ruling him in his OTVTQe rayne, 
Drives backe the current of his kindly course. 
And makes it seeme to have some other sourse ; 
But when the floud is spent, then backe againe 
His borrowed waters forst to re-disbourse,^ 
He sends the sea his owne with double gaine, 
And tribute eke withall, as to his soveraine. 

Thus did the battell varie to and fro. 

With diverse fortune doubtfull to be deemed: 

Now this the better had, now had his fo ; 

Then he halfe vanquisht, then the other seemed ; 

Yet victors both themselves alwayes esteemed : 

And all the while the disentrayled blood 

Adowne their sides like litle rivers stremed. 

That with the wasting of his vitall flood 

Sir Triamond at last full faint and feeble stood. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 439 

But Cambell still more stronpr and greater grew, 
JSTe felt his blood to wast, no povvres emperisht, 
Through that rings vertue, that with vigour new, 
Still whenas he enfeebled was, him cherisht, 
And all his wounds and all his bruises guarisht : 
Like as a withered tree, through husbands toyle. 
Is often seene full freshly to have fiorisht, 
And fruitfull apples to have borne awhile, 
As fresh as \a hen it first was planted in the soyle. 

Through which advantage, in his strength he rose 

And smote the other with so wondrous might, 

That through the seame which did his hauberk close 

Into his throate and life it pierced quight, 

That downe he fell as dead in all mens sight; 

Yet dead he was not ; yet he sure did die, 

As all men do that lose the living spright: 

So did one soule out of his bodie flie 

Unto her native home from mortal! miseries 

But nathelesse whilst all the lookers-on 

Him dead behight, as he to all appeard. 

All unawares he started up anon. 

As one tliat had out of a dreme bene reard, 

And fresh assayld his foe ; who halfe afFeard 

Of th' uncouth sight, as he some ghost had seene. 

Stood still amaz'd, holding his idle sweard ; 

Till, having often by him stricken beene, 

He forced was to strike and save himselfe from tcene. 

Yet from thenceforth more warily he fought, 
As one in feare the Stygian gods t' oifend, 
Ne followd on so fast, but rather sought 
Himselfe to save, and daunger to defend. 
Then life aud labour both in vaine to spencL 
Which Triamond perceiving, weened sure 
He gan to faint toward the battels end, 
And that he should not long on foote endure; 
A signe which did to him the victorie assure. 

Whereof full blith" eftsoones his mightie hand 

He heav'd on high, in mind with that same blow 

To make an end of all that did withstand: 

Which Cambell seeing come, was nothing slow 

Himselfe to save from that so deadly throw; 

And at that instant reaching forth his sweard 

Close underneath his shield, that scarce did show, 

Stroke him, as he is hand to strike upreard, [appeard. 

In th' arm-pit full, that through both sides the wound 



440 THE FAEEIE QUEENS. 

Yet still tbat direfall stroke kept on his way. 
And, falling lieavie on Cambelloes crest, 
Strooke him so Jiugely that in a swowne he lay. 
And in his head an hideous wound imprest: 
And sure, had it not happily found rest 
Upon the brim of his brode-plated shield, 
It would have cleft his braine downe to his brest: 
So both at once fell dead upon the held, 
And each to other, seemd the victorie to yield. 

Which whenas all the lookers-on beheld, 
fhey weened sure the warre was at an end ; 
And iudges rose ; and marshals of the field 
Broke up the listes, their armes away to rend; 
And Canacee gan wayle her dearest frend. 
All suddenly they both upstarted light. 
The one out of the swownd which him did blend. 
The other breathmg now another spright ; 
And fiercely each assayling gan afresh to fight. 

Long while they then continued in that wize. 

As if but then the battell had begonne : 

Strokes, wounds, wards, weapons, all they did despise ; 

Ne either car'd to ward, or perill shonne. 

Desirous both to have the battell donne ; 

ISTe either cared life to save or spill, 

Ne which of them did winne, ne which were wonne ; 

So wearie both of fighting had their fill, 

That life itselfe seemd loathsome, and long safetie ill. 

Whilst thus the case in doubtfuU ballance hong. 
Unsure to whether side it would incline. 
And all mens eyes and hearts, which there among 
Stood gazing, filled were with ruful tine 
Arid secret feare, to see their fatall fine ; 
All suddenly they heard a troublous noyes, 
That seemd some, perilous tumult to desine, 
Confus'd with womens cries and shouts of boyes, 
Such as the troubled theatres ofttimes annoyes. 

Thereat the champions both stood still a space. 
To weeten what that sudden clamour meht : 
Lo! where they spyde with speedie whirling pace 
One in a charet of straunge furniment 
Towards them driving like a storme out sent. 
The charet decked was in wondrous wize 
With gold and many a gorgeous ornament, 
After the Persian monarks antique guize, 
Such as the maker selfe could best by art deYize. 



THE PAEEIE QUEENE. 441 

And drawne it was (that wonder is to tell) 

Of two grim lyons, taken from the wood 

In which their powre all others did excell, 

Now made forget their former cruell mood, 

T' obey their riders hest, as seemed good : 

And therein sate a lady passing faire 

And bright, that seemed borne of angels brood ; 

And, with her beautie, bountie did compare. 

Whether of them in her should have the greatsr sli£,rt 

Thereto she learned was in magicke leare, 
Aiid all the artes that sub till wits discover. 
Having therein bene trained many a yeare. 
And well instructed by the fay her mother^ 
That in the same she farre exceld all otkej^z 
Who, understanding by her mightie art 
Of ih* evill phght in which her dearest brot^ior 
Now stood, came forth in hast, to take his part, 
And pacifie the strife which causd £0 deadly smaf4. 

And, as she passed through th* unruly preace 

Of people thronging thicke her to behold, 

Her angrie teame breaking their bonds of peace^ 

Great heapes of them, like sheepe in narrow fold. 

For hast did over-runne in dust enrould; 

That, thorough rude confusion of the rout, 

Some fearing shriekt, some beiDg harmed hould, 

Some laught for sport, some did for wonder shout; ^^out. 

And some, that would seeme wise, their wonder ttirnd to 

In her right hand a rod of peace shee bore, 

About the which two serpents weren wound, 

Entrayled mutually in lovely lore. 

And by the tailes together lirmely bound. 

And both were with one olive garland crownd ; 

(Like to the rod which Maias sonne doth wield, 

Wherewith the hellish fiends he doth confound ;) 

And in her other hand a cup she hild. 

The which was with Nepenthe to the brim upfild. 

Nepenthe is a drinck of soverayne grace. 
Devized by the gods for to asswage 
Harts grief, and bitter gall away to chace 
Which stirs up anguish and contentious rage : 
Instead thereof sweet peace and quietage 
It doth establish in the troubled mynd. 
Few men, but such as sober are and sage. 
Are by the gods to drinck thereof assy nd; 
But such as drinck, eternall happinesse do fvnd. 



442 THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 

Sucli famous men, such, wortliies of tlie earth, 

As love will have advaunced to the skie, 

And there made gods, though borne of mortall berth, 

For their high merits and great dignitie, 

Are wont, before they may to heaven flie. 

To drincke hereof; whereby all cares forepast 

Are waslit away quite from their memorie : 

So did those olde heroes hereof taste. 

Before that they in bhsse amongst the gods were plaste. 

Much more of price and of more gratious powre 

Is this, then that same water of Ardenne, 

The w^hich E-inaldo drunck in happie howre. 

Described by that famous Tuscane penne : 

For that had might to change the he hearts of men 

Fro love to hate, a change of evill choise : 

iBut this doth hatred make in love to brenne. 

And heavy heart wdth comfort doth reioyce. ^ 

Who would not to this vertue rather yeeld his voice i 

At last arriving by the listes side, 

Shee with her rod did softly smite the raile. 

Which straight flew ope and gave her way to ride. 

Eftsoones out of her coch she gan availe, 

And pacing fairely forth did bid all haile 

First to her brother whom she loved deare, < 

That so to see him made her heart to quaile ; 

And next to Cambell, whose sad ruefull cheare 

Made her to change her hew, and hidden love t' appeare. 

They lightly her requit, (for small delight 
They had as then her long to entertaine,) 
And eft them turned both againe to fight : 
Which when she saw, downe on the bloudy plaine 
Herselfe she threw, and teares gan shed amaine; 
Amongst her teares immixing prayers meeke. 
And with her prayers reasons, to restraine 
From blouddy strife ; and, blessed peace to seeke, 
By all that unto them was deare did them beseeke. 

But whenas all might nought with them prevaile, 

She smote them lightly with her powrefijll wand: 

Then suddenly, as if their hearts did faile, 

Their wratlifull blades downe fell out of their hand. 

And they, like men astonisht, still did stand. 

Thus whilest their minds were doubtfully distraught, 

And mighty spirites bound with mightier band, 

Her golden cup to them for drinke she raught. 

Whereof, full glad for thirst, ech drunk an harty draught; 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 443 

Of wliicli so soone as they once tasted had, - 
Wonder it is that sudden chancre to see : 
Instead of strokes, each other kissed glad. 
And lovely haulsb, from feare of treason free. 
And plighted hands, for ever friends to be. 
When all men saw this sudden change of things. 
So mortall foes so friendly to a^ree. 
For passing ioy, which so great marvaile brings. 
They all gan shout aloud, that all the heaven rings. 

All which when gentle Canacee beheld, ■ 
In hast she from her lofty chaire descended. 
To weet what sudden tidings was befeld : 
Where when she saw that cruell war so ended. 
And deadly foes so faithfully affrended, 
In lovely wise she gan that lady greet. 
Which had so great dismay so well amended ; 
And, entertaining her with curt'sics meet, 
Profest to her true friendship and affection sweet* 

Thus when they all accorded goodly were. 
The trumpets sounded, and they all arose. 
Thence to depart with glee and gladsome chere^ 
Those warlike champions both together chose 
Homeward to march, themselves there to repose : 
And wise Cambina, taking by her side 
Faire Canacee as fresh as morning rose, 
Unto her coch remounting, home did ride, 
Admir'd of all the people and much glorifide. 

Where making ioyous feast their dales they spent 

In perfect love, devoide of hatefuU strife, 

Allide with bands of mutuall couplement; 

For Triamond had Canacee to wife. 

With whom he ledd a long and happie life ; 

And Cambel tooke Cambina to his fere. 

The which as life were each to other liefe. 

So all alike did love, and loved were, 

That since their days such lovers were not found elswera 



4M THE FAEBIE QTTEEKE. 



CANTO IV. 

Satyrane makes a turneyment 

For love of Florimell : 
Britomart winnes the prize from all^ 

And Artegall doth quell. 

It offcen fals, (as liere it earst befell,) 

That mortall foes doe turne to faitbfull frends, 

And friends profest are chaungd to foemen fell : 

The cause of both of both their minds depends ; 

And th* end of both likewise of both their ends : 

!For enmitie, that of no ill proceeds 

But of occasion, with th' occasion ends ; 

And friendship, which a faint affection breeds 

Without regard of good, dyes like ill-grounded seeds. 

That well (me seemes) appeares by that of late 

Twixt Cambell and Sir Triamond befell ; 

As als by this ; that now a new debate 

Stird up twixt Blandamour and Paridell, 

The which by course befals me here to tell : 

"Who, having those two other knights espide 

Marching afore, as ye remember well, 

Sent forth their squire to have them both descride, 

And eke those masked ladies riding them beside. 

Who backe returning told, as he had scene. 
That they were doughtie knights of dreaded name; 
And those two ladies their two loves unsecne ; 
And therefore wisht them without blot or blame 
To let them passe at will, for dread of shame. 
But Blandamour, full of vain-glorious spright. 
And rather stird by his discordfull dame, 
Upon them gladly would have prov'd his might. 
But that he yet was sore of his late lucklesse fight. 

Yet nigh approching he them fowle bespake, 
Disgracing them, himselfe thereby to grace 
As was his wont ; so weening way to make 
To ladies love, whereso he came in place^ 
And with lewd termes their lovers to deface. 
Whose sharpe provokement them incenst so sore. 
That both were bent t' avenge his usage base, 
And gan their shields addresse themselves afore : 
l^or evill deedes may better then bad words be bore. 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 415 

But faire Cambina with perswasions myld 
Did mitigate the fiercenesse of their mode. 
That for the present they were reconcyrd, 
And gan to treate of deeds of armes alDrode, 
And strange adventures, all the way they rode t 
Amongst the which they told, as then befell. 
Of that great turney which was blazed brode. 
For that rich girdle of faire Florimell, 
The prize of her which did in beautie most excell. 

To which folke-mote they all with one consent, 

Sith each of them his ladie had him by, 

Whose beautie each of them thought excellent. 

Agreed to travell, and their fortunes try. 

So as they passed forth, they did espy 

One in bright armes with ready speare in rest, 

That toward them his course seem'd to apply ; 

Gainst whom Sir Paridell himselfe addrest, 

Him weening, ere he nigh approcht, to have represt. 

Which th* other seeing gan his course relent. 

And vaunted speare eftsoones to disadvaunce, 

As if he naught but peace and pleasure ment, 

Now falne into their fellowship by chance ; 

Whereat they shewed curteous countenaunce. 

So as he rode with them accompanide, 

His roving eie did on ther lady glaunce 

Which Blandamour had riding by his side : 

Whom sure he weend that he somewhere tofore had eide. 

It was to weete that snowy Florimell, 

Which Ferrau late from Braggadochio wonne ; 

Whom he now seeing, her remembred well. 

How having reft her from the witches sonne. 

He soone her lost : wherefore he now begunne 

To challenge her anew, as his owne prize. 

Whom formerly he had in battell wonne. 

And proffer made by force her to reprize : 

Which scornefull offer Blandamour gan soone despite ; 

And said ; "Sir Knight, sith ye this lady clame. 
Whom he that hath were loth to lose so light, 
(For so to lose a lady were great shame,) 
Yee shall her winne, as I have done, in fight : 
And lo ! shee shall be placed here in sight 
Together with this hag beside her set, 
That whoso winnes her may her have by right ; 
But he shall have the hag that is ybet. 
And with her alwaies ride, till he another get." 
20 



446 THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 

That offer pleased all tlie company: 

So Florimell with Ate forth, was brought, 

At which they all gan laugh full merrily: 

!But Braggadochio said, he never thonglit 

For such an hag, that seemed worst then nought^ 

His person to emperill so in fight : 

But if to match that lady they had sought 

Another like, that were like faire and bright. 

His life he then would spend to iustifie his right. 

At which his yaine excuse they all gan smile 

As scorning his unmanly cowardize : 

And Florimell him fowly gan revile. 

That for her sake refus'd to enterprize 

The battell, offred in so knightly wize ; 

And Ate eke provokt him privily 

With love of her, and shame of much mesprize. 

But naught he car*d for friend or enemy; 

For in base mind nor friendship dwels nor enmity. 

But Cambell thus did shut up all in iest ; 

" Brave knights and ladies, certes ye do wrong 

To stirre up strife, when most us needeth rest. 

That we may us reserve both fresh and strong 

A^rainst the turneiment which is not long, 

Wlien whoso hst to fight may fight his fill : 

Till then your challenges ye may prolong ; 

And then it shall be tried, if ye mil, 

Whether shall have the hag, or hold the lady still.'* 

They all agreed ; so, turning all to game 
And pleasaunt bord, they past forth on their way; 
And all that while, whereso they rode or came ; 
That masked mock-knight was their sport and play. 
Till that at length upon th' appointed day 
Unto the place of turneyment they came; 
Where they before them found in fresh aray 
Manie a brave knight and manie a daintie dame 
Assembled for to get the honour of that game. 

There this faire crew arriving did divide 

Themselves asunder : Blandamour with those 

Of his on th* one, the rest on th' other side. 

But boastful Braggadochio rather chose. 

For glorie vaine, their fellowshii^ to lose. 

That men on him the more might gaze alone. 

The rest themselves in troupes did else dispose. 

Like as it seemed best to every one ; 

The knights in couples marcht with ladies linckt attone. 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 417 

Then first of all forth came Sir Satyrane, 

Bearing that precious relicke in an arke 

Of ^old, that bad eyes mi^^ht it not prophane; 

Which drawing softly forth out of the darke. 

He open shewd, that all men it mote marke ; 

A gorgeous girdle, curiously embost 

With pearle aud precious stone, worth many a marko ; 

Yet did the workmanship farre passe the cost : 

It was the same which lately Fiorimell had lost. 

The same alofte he hung in open vew. 
To be the prize of beautie and of might; 
The which, eftsoones discovered, to it drew 
The eyes of all, allur'd with close delight, ^ 
And hearts quite robbed with so glorious sight. 
That all men threw out vowes and wishes vaine. 
Thrise happie ladie, and thrise happie knight. 
Them seemd that could so goodly riches gaine. 
So worthie of the perill, worthy of the paine. 

Then tooke the bold Sir Satyrane in hand 

An huge great speare, such as he wont to wield. 

And, vauncing forth from all the other band 

Of knights, addrest liis maiden-headed shield, 

S lie wing himselfe all ready for the field : 

Gainst whom there singled from the other side 

A Painim knight that well in armes was skii'd. 

And had in many a battell offc bene tride, 

Hight Bruncheval the bold, who fiersly forth did ride. 

So furiously they both together met. 

That neither could the others force sustaine : 

As two fierce buls, that strive the rule to get 

Of all the heard, meete with so hideous maine, 

That both rebutted tumble on the plaine ; 

So these two champions to the ground were feld ; 

Where in a maze they both did long remaine. 

And in their hands their idle troncheons held, 

Which neither able were to wag, or once to weli 

Which when the noble Ferramont espide, 

He pricked forth in avd-of Satyran ; 

And him against Sir Blandamour did ride 

With all the strength and stifnesse that he can: 

But the more strong and stilfely that he ran, 

So much more sorely to the ground he fell, 

That on an heape were tumbled horse and man : 

Unto whose rescue forth rode Paridell ; 

But him likewise with that same speare he eke did quelL 



448 THE FAEKIE QUEENB. 

Wliicli Braggadocliio seeing had no Trill 

To hasten greatly to his parties a.yd, 

Albee his turne were next, but stood there still. 

As one that seemed doubtfull or dismayd : 

But Triamond, halfe wroth to see him staid, 

Sternly step forth and raught away his speare. 

With which so sore he Ferramont assaid, 

That horse and man to ground he quite did beare, 

That neither could in hast themselves again upreare. 

Wliich to avenge Sir Devon him did dight, 

33 ut with no better fortune than the rest ; 

For him likewise he quickly downe did smight : 

And after him Sir Douglas him addrest ; 

And after him Sir Palimord forth prest ; 

But none of them against his strokes could stand ; 

But, all the more, the mere his praise increst: 

For either they were left upon the land, 

Or went away sore wounded of his haplesse hand. 

And now by this Sir Satyrane abraid 

Out of the swowne, in which too long he lay; 

And looking round about, like one dismaid, 

Whenas he saw the mercilesse affray 

^A hich doughty Triamond had wrought that day 

Unto the noble knights of Maidenhead, 

His miuhty heart did almost rend in tway 

For very gall, that rather wholly dead 

Himselfe he wisht have becne then in so bad a stead, 

Eftsoones he gan to gather up around 

His weapons which lay scattered all abrode, 

And, as it fell, his steed he ready found : 

On whom remounting fiercely forth he rode, 

Like sparke of fire that from the andvile glode. 

There where he saw the valiant Triamond 

Chasing, and laying on them heavy lode. 

That none his force were able to withstond ; 

So dreadfull were his strokes, so deadly was his Lond, 

With that, at him his beamlike speare he aimed, 
And thereto all his power and might applide : 
The wicked Steele for mischiefe first ordained 
And having now misfortune got for guide. 
Staid not till it arrived in his side, 
And therein made a very griesly wound, 
That streames of blood his armour all bedide. 
Much was he daunted with that direfull stownd, 
That scarse he him upheld from falhng in a sound. 



THE FAEEIB QUEEN E. 4AD 

Yetj as he mi^lit, himselfe he soft withdrew 
Out of the field, that none perceiv'd it plaine ; 
Then gan the part of chalengers anew ^ 
To range the field, and victorlike to raine, 
That none against them battell durst maintaine. 
By that the gloomy evening on them fell, 
That forced them from fighting to refraine, 
And trumpets sound to cease did them compell : 
So Satyrane that day was iudg'd to beare the belL 

The morrow next the turney gan anew ; 

And with the first the hardy Satyrane 

Appear 'd in place, with all his noble crew : 

On th* other side full many a warlike swaine 

Assembled were, that glorious prize to gaine. 

But mongst them all was not Sir Triamond ; 

Unable he new battell to darraine, 

Throuixh grievaunce of his late received wound, 

That doubly did him grieve when so himselfe he found. 

Which Cambell seeing, though he could not salve, 

"Ne done undoe, yet, for to salve his name 

And purchase honour in his friends behalve. 

This goodly counterfesaunce he did frame : 

The shield and armes, well knowne to be the same 

Which Triamond had worne, unawares to wight 

And to his friend unwist, for doubt of blame 

If he misdid, he on himselfe did dight, 

That none could him discerne ; and so went forth to fight. 

There Satyrane lord of the field he found. 

Triumphing in great ioy and iolity ; 

Gainst whom none able was to stand on ground; 

That much he gan his glorie to envy. 

And cast t' avenge his friends indignity : 

A mightie speare eftsoones at him he bent ; 

Who, seeing him come on so furiously, 

Met him mid- way with equall hardiment, 

That forcibly to ground they both together went. 

They up a gaine themselves can lightly reare, 

And to their tryed swords themselves betake; 

With which they wrought such wondrous marvels there 

Til at all the rest it did amazed make, 

Neany dar'd their pcrill to partake ; 

Now cufiing close, now chasing to and fro, 

Now hurtling round advantage for to take: 

As two wild boares together grapling go, 

Chaufing and foming choler each against his fo. 



450 THE FAEBIE QtTEENE. 

So as tliey courst, and turneyd here and theare, 

It channst Sir Satyrane his steed at last. 

Whether through foundring or through sodein feare. 

To stumble, that his rider nigh he cast ; 

"Which vauntage Cambell did pursue so fast, 

That, ere himselfe he had recovered well, 

So sore he sowst him on the compast creast. 

That forced him to leave his lofty sell, 

And rudely tumbling downe under his horse-feete fcU. 

Lightly Cambello leapt downe from his steed 

Por to have rent his shield and armes away, 

That whylome wont to be the victors meed ; 

When all unwares he felt an hideous sway 

Of many swords that lode on him did lay : 

An hundred knights had him enclosed round, 

To rescue Satyrane out of his pray ; 

All which at once huge strokes on him did pound, 

In hope to take him prisoner, where he stood on ground. 

He with their multitude was nought dismayd 

But with stout courage turnd upon them all. 

And with his brond-iron round about bim layd; 

Of which he dealt large almes, as did befall : 

Like as a lion, that by chaunce doth fall 

Into the hunters toile, doth rage and rore. 

In royall heart disdaining to be thrall : 

But all in vaine : for what might one do more P ^ 

They have him taken captive, though it grieve him sore, 

Wliereof when newes to Triamond was brought 
Thereas he lay, his wound he soone forgot, 
And starting up streight for his armour sought: 
In vaine he sought ; for there he found it not ; 
Cambello it away before had got : 
Cambelloes armes therefore he on him threw. 
And lightly issewd forth to take his lot. 
There he in troupe found all that warHke crew, 
Leading his friend away, full sorie to his vew. 

Into the thickest of that knightly preasse 

He thrust, and smote downe all that was betweeno 

Caried with fervent zeale ; ne did he ceasse, 

Till that he came where he had Cambell scene 

Like captive thral two other kniglits atwecne : 

There he amongst them cruell havocke makes. 

That they, which lead him, soone enforced beene 

To let him loose to save their proper stakes ; 

Who, being freed, from one a weapon fiercely takes I 



THE PAEETE QTTEENE. 451 

With that he drives at them with dreadfull might, 

Both in remembrance of his friends late harme. 

And in revengement of his owne despight : 

So both together give a new allarme, 

As if but now the battel 1 wexed warme. 

As when two greedy wolves doe breake by force 

Into an heard, farre from the husband farme, 

They spoile and ravine without all remorse : 

So did these two through all the field their foes enforce. 

Fiercely they foUowd on their bolde emprize, 
Till trumpets sound did warne them all to rest : 
Then all with one consent did yeeld the prize 
To Triamond and Cambell as the best : 
But Triamond to Cambell it relest. 
And Cambell it to Triamond transferd ; 
Each labouring t' advance the others gest. 
And make his praise before his owne preferd : 
So that the doome was to another day differd. 

The last day came ; when aU those knightes againe 

Assembled were their deedes of armes to shew. 

Full many deedes that day were shewed plaine : 

But Satyrane, bove all the other crew, 

His wondrous worth declard in all mens view ; 

For from the first he to the last endured : 

And though some wtdle Fortune from him withdrew. 

Yet evermore his honour he recured, 

And with unwearied powre his party still assured. 

Ne was there knight that ever thought of armes, 
But that his utmost prowesse there made knowen : 
That, by their many wounds and carelesse harmes, 
By shivered speares and swords all under strowen, 
By scattered shields, was easie to be showen. 
Th-ere might ye see loose steeds at randon ronne, 
Whose lucklesse riders late were overthrowen ; 
And squiers make hast to helpe their lords fordonne : 
But still the knights of Maidenhead the better wonne. 

Till that there entred on the other side 

A straunger knight, from whence no man could reed. 

In quyent disguise, full hard to be descride : 

For all his armour was like salvage weed 

With woody mosse bedight, and all his steed 

With oaken leaves attrapt, that seemed fit 

For salvage wight, and thereto well agreed 

His word, which on his ragged shield was writ, 

Salvagesse sans finesse^ shewing secret wit. 



452 THE FAEEIB ^UEENB. 

He, at Ills first incomming, cliarg'd his spere 
At liim that first appeared in his sight ; 
That was to weet the stout Sir Sanghere, 
Who well was knowen to be a valiant knight, 
Approved oft in many a perlous fight : 
Him at the first encounter downe he smote. 
And over-bore beyond his crouper quight ; 
And after him another knight, that hote 
Sir Brianor, so sore, that none him life behote. 

Then, ere his hand he reard, he overthrew 
Seven knights one after other as they came : 
And, when his speare was brust, his sword he drew 
The instrument of wrath, and with the same 
Far'd like a lyon in his bloodie game. 
Hewing and slashing shields and helmets bright, 
And beating downe whatever nigh him came, 
That every one gan shun his dreadfull sight 
ISTo lesse than death itselfe, in daungerous afiright. 

Much wondred all men what or whence he came. 

That did amongst the troupes so tyrannize 5 

And each of other gan inquire his name : 

But, when they could not learn it by no wize. 

Most answerable to his wyld disguize 

It seemed, him to terme the salvage knight : 

But certes his right name was otherwize. 

Though knowne to few th^t Arthegall he hight, 

The doughtiest knight that liv'd that day, and most of might. 

Thus was Sir Satyrane with all his band 
By his sole manhood and atchievement stout 
Dismay 'd, that none of them in field durst stand. 
But beaten were and chased all about. 
So he continued all that day throughout, 
Till evening that the sunne gan downward bend: 
Then rushed forth out of the thickest rout 
A straunger knight, that did his glorie shend : 
So nought may be esteemed happie till the end ! 

He at his entrance charg'd his powrefull speare 

At Arthegall, in middest of his pryde. 

And therewith smote him on his umbriere 

So sore, that tombling backe he downe did slyde 

Over his liorses taile above a stryde ; 

Whence litle lust he had to rise againe. 

Which Cambell seeing, much the same envyde. 

And ran at him with all his might and maine ; 

But shortly was likewise seene lying on the plaine 



THE FAERIE QUEENS. 4>53 

Whereat full inly wrotli was Triatnond, 
And cast t* avenge the shame doen to his freend: 
33ut by his friend himselfe eke soone he fond 
In no lesse neede of helpe then him he weend. 
All which when Blandamonr from end to end 
Beheld, he woxe therewith displeased sore, 
And thought in mind it shortly to amend: 
His speare he feutred, and at him it bore ; 
But with no better fortune then the rest afore, 

Full many others at him likewise ran ; 

But all of them likewise dismounted were: 

ITe certes wonder ; for no powre of man 

Could bide the force of that enchaunted speare. 

The which this famous Bntomart did beare ; 

With which she wondrous deeds of arms atchievcd. 

And overthrew whatever came her neare. 

That all those stranger knights full sore agrieved. 

And that late weaker band of chalengers relieved. 

Like as in sommers day \^'hen raging heat 
Doth burne the earth and boy led rivers drie, 
That all brute beasts forst to refraine fro meat 
Doe hunt for shade where shrowded they may lie. 
And, missing it, faine from themselves to ilie ; 
All travellers tormented are with paine : 
A watry cloud doth overcast the skie, 
And poureth forth a sudden shourc of raine, 
That all the wretched world recomforteth againe i 

So did the warlike Bri torn art restore 

The prize to knights of Maydenhead that day, 

Which else was like to have bene lost, and bore 

The prayse of prowesse from them all away. 

Then shrilling trompets loudly gan to bray, 

And bad them leave their labours and long toyle 

To ioyous feast and other gentle play, 

Wlicre beauties prize should win that prctious spoyle. 

Where I with sound of trompe will also rest awhjle. 



454t THE FAEEIE QUEENB, 



CANTO Y. 

The ladies for the girdle strive 

Of famous Florimell : 
Scudamour, comming to Caresl house 

Doth sleepe from him expel. 

It hatlibene tLrongli all ages ever seene. 

That with the praise of armes and chevalrie 

The prize of beautie still hath ioyned beene ; 

And that for reasons speciall privitee; 

For either doth on other much relie : 

For he nie seemes most fit the faire to serve. 

That can her best defend from villenie; 

And she most fit his service doth deserve, 

That fairest is, and from her faith will never swerve. 

So fitly now here commeth next in place, 

After the proofe of prowesse ended well, 

The controverse of beauties soveraine grace; 

In which, to her that doth the most exceil, 

Shall fall the girdle of faire Florimell : 

That many wish to win for glorie vaine. 

And not for vertuons use, which some doe tell 

That glorious belt did in itselfe containe, 

"Which ladies ought to love, and seeke for to obtaine, 

!lliat girdle gave the vertue of chast love 
And wivehood true to all that did it beare ; 
But whosoever contrarie doth prove. 
Might not the same about her middle weare 
But it would loose, or else asunder teare. 
Whilom e it was (as Faeries wont report) 
Dame Venus girdle, by her 'steemed dearo 
W^hat time she usd to hve in wively sort, 
But layd aside whenso she usd her looser sport. 

Her husband Vulcan whylome for her sake. 
When first he loved her with heart entire, 
This pretious ornament, they say, did make, 
And wrought in Lemnos with unquenched firei 
And afterwards did for her loves first liire 
Give it to her, for ever to remaine, 
Therewith to bind lascivious desire, 
And loose affections streightly to restraine; 
Which vertue it for ever after did retaine. 



THE FAEEIE QTJEEITB. 455 

The same one day, wlien she herselfe disposd 

To visite her beloved paramoure, 

The god of warre, she from her middle loosd. 

And left behind her in her secret bowre 

On AcidaHan mount, where many an howre 

She with the pleasant graces wont to play. 

There Florimell in her first ages flowre 

Was fostered by those graces, (as they say,) 

And brought with her from thence that goodly belt away. 

That goodly belt was cestus hight by name, 

And as her life by her esteemed deare : 

No wonder then, if that to winne the same 

So many ladies sought, as shall appeare ; 

For pearelesse she was thought that it did beare. 

And now by this their feast aU being ended, 

The iudges, which thereto selected were. 

Into the Martian field adowne descended. 

To deeme this doubtfuU case, for which they all contended. 

But first was question made, which of those knights 
That lately turneyd had the wager wonne : 
There was it iudged, by whose worthie wights. 
That Satyrane the first day best had donne: 
For he last ended, having first begonne. 
The second was to Triamond behight. 
For that he sav*d the victour from fordonne : 
For Cambell victour was, in all mens sight, ^ 
Till by mishap he in his foemens hand did light. 

The third dayes prize unto that straunger knight. 

Whom all men term'd knight of the hebene speare. 

To Britomart was given by good right; 

For that with puissaunt stroke she downe did beaio 

The salvage knight that victour was whileare. 

And all the rest which had the best afore. 

And, to the last, unconquer'd did appeare ; 

For last is deemed best : to her therefore 

The fayrest ladie was aiudged for paramoro. 

But thereat greatly grudged Arthegall, 

And much repynd, that both of victors meede 

And eke of honour she did him forestall : 

Yet mote he not withstand what was decreedo; 

But inly thought of that despightfull deede 

Fit time t'awaite avenged for to bee. 

This being ended thus, and all agreed, 

Then next cnsew'd the paragon to see 

Of beauties praise, and yeeld the fayrest her due fee. 



456 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

Then first Cambello brought into their view 

His faire Cambina covered with a veale ; 

Which being once withclrawne, most perfect hew 

And passing beantie did eftsoones reveale, 

That able was weake harts away to steale. 

]S"ext did Sir Triamond unto their sight 

The face of his deare Canacee unheale ; 

"V^Tiose beauties beame eftsoones did shine so bright. 

That daz'd the eyes of all, as with exceeding light. 

And after her did Paridell produce 

His false Duessa, that she might be scene; 

Who with her forged beautie did seduce 

The hearts of some that fairest her did weene; 

As diverse wits affected divers beene. 

Then did Sir Ferramont unto them shew 

His Lucida, that was full faire and sheene ; 

And after these an hundred ladies moe 

Appear d in place, the which each other did outgoe. 

All which whoso dare thinke for to enchace. 

Him needeth sure a golden pen I weene 

To tell the feature of each goodly face. 

Por, since the day that they created beene. 

So many heavenly faces were not scene 

Assembled in one place: ne he that thought 

!For Chian folke to pourtraict beauties queene, 

"By view of all the fairest to him brought, 

So many faire did see, as here he might have sought. 

At last, the most redoubted Eritonesse 

Her lovely Amoret did open shew; 

Whose face, discovered, plainely did expresse 

The heavenly pourtraict of bright angels hew. 

Well weened all, which her that time did vew. 

That she should surely beare the bell away ; 

Till Blandamour, who thought he had the trew 

And very Florimell, did her display : 

The sight of whom once scene did all the rest dismay. 

Por all afore that seemed fayre and bright, 
[Now base and contemptible did appeare, 
Compar'd to her that shone as Phebes light 
Amongst the lesser starres in evening cleare. 
All that her saw with wonder ravisht weare. 
And weend no mortall creature she should bee. 
But some celestiall shape that flesh did beare : 
Yet all were glad there Florimell to see ; 
Yet thought that Florimell was not so faire as sliee. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 457 

As guilefull goldsmith that by secret skill 

With golden foyle doth finely over-spred^ 

Some baser rnetall, which commend he will 

Unto the vulgar for good gold insted, 

He much more goodly glosse thereon doth shed 

To hide his falshood, then if it were trew: 

So hard this idole was to be ared. 

That Florimell herselfe in all mens vew 

She seem'd to passe^ So forged things do fairest shew. 

Then was that golden belt by doome of all 
Graunted to her, as to the fayrest dame, 
Which being brought, about her middle small 
They thought to gird, as best it her became ; 
But by no meanes they could it thereto frame : 
For, ever as they fastned it, it loos'd. 
And fell away, as feeling secret blame. 
Full oft about her wast she it enclos'd; 
And it as oft was from about her wast disclos'd: 

That all men wondred at the uncouth sight, 

And each one thought, as to their fancies came: 

But she herselfe did thinke it doen for spight. 

And touched was with secret wrath and shamo 

Therewith, as thing deviz'd her to defame. 

Then many other ladies likewise tride 

About their tender loynes to knit the same ; 

But it would not on none of them abide, 

But when they thought it fast, eftsoones it was untido. 

Which when that scornefull squire of dames did vew 

He lowdly gan to laugh, and thus to iest; 

*' Alas for pittie that so faire a crew, 

As like cannot be scene from east to west. 

Cannot find one this girdle to invest ! 

Fie on the man that did it first invent, 

To shame us all with this, ungirt unhlest! 

Let never ladie to his love assent. 

That hath this day so many so unmanly shent." 

Thereat all knights gan laugh, and ladies lowre : 

Till that at last the gentle Amoret 

Likewise assayd to prove that girdles powrej 

And, having it about her middle set. 

Did find it fit withouten breach or let ; 

Whereat the rest gan greatly to envie : 

But Florimell exceedingly did fret, 

And, snatching from her hand halfe angrily 

The belt againe, about her bodie gan it tie : 



458 THE FAERIE QUEENS. 

Yet natliemore would it Ler bodie fit ; 

Yet natbelesse to her, as her dew right, 

It yielded was by them that iudged it ; 

And she herselfe adiudged to the knight 

That bore the hebeiie speare, as wonne in fight. 

But Britomart would not thereto assent, 

'Ne her owne Amoret forgoe so hght 

For that strange dame, whose beauties wonderment 

She lesse esteem'd then th' others verttlous government. 

Whom when the rest did see her to refuse. 
They were full glad, in hope themselves to get her s 
Yet at her choice they all did greatly muse. 
But, after that, the iudges did arret her 
iJnto the second best that lov'd her better ; 
That was the salvage knight : but he was gone 
In great displeasure, that he could not get her. 
Then was she iudged Triamond his one ; 
But Triamond lov'd Canacee and other none. 

Tho unto Satyran she was adiudged. 

Who was right glad to gaine so goodly meed : 

But Blandamour thereat full greatly grudged. 

And litle prays'd his labours evill speed, 

That for to winne the saddle lost the steed, 

l^e lesse thereat did Paridell complaine, 

And thought t' appeale, from that which was decreei 

To single combat with Sir Satyrane : 

Thereto him Ate stird, new discord to maintaine. 

And eke, with these, full many other knights 
She through her wicked working did incense 
Her to demaund and chalenge as their rights, 
Deserved for theii- perils recompense. 
Amongst the rest, with boastfull vaine pretense 
Stept Braggadochio forth, and as his thrall 
Her claym'd, by bim in battell wonne long sens: 
Whereto herselfo he did to witnesse call ; 
Who, being askt, accordingly confessed all. 

Thereat exceeding wroth was Satyran ; 

And wroth with Satyran was Blandamour; 

And wroth with Blandamour was Erivan j 

And at them both Sir Paridell did loure. 

So all together stird up stri iill stoure, 

And readie wf re new battell to darraine : 

Eich one profest to be her paramoure, 

Aud vow'd with speare and shield it to maintaine; 

I^e iudges powre, no reasons rule, mote them restrain*. 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. M 

Which troublous stirre when Satjrrane aviz'd 
He gan to cast how to appease the same, ^ 
And, to accord them all, this meanes deviz'd: 
First in the midst to set that fayrest dame, 
Q'o who n each ono hi^ chalenge should disclame. 
And he himselfe his right would eke releasse : 
Then, looke to whom siie voluntarie came, 
He should without disturbance her possesse : 
Sweete is tJie love that comes alone with willingnesse, 

Tli^y all agreed ; and then that snowy mayd 
Was in the middcst p^ast among them all: 
All on her gazing wisht, and vowd, and prayd, 
And to the.queene of beautie close did call. 
That she unto their portion might befall. 
Then when she long had lookt upon each one. 
As though she wished to have pleasd them all. 
At last to Braggadochio selfe alone 
She came of her accord, in spight of all his fone. 

Which when they all beheld, they chaft, and rag*d. 

And woxe nigh mad for very harts despight, 

That from revenge their willes they scarse asswag'd ; 

Some thought from him her to have reft by might j 

Some proffer made with him for her to fight : 

Bat he nought car'd for all that they could say; 

For he their words as wind esteemed light : 

Yet not fit place he thouiiht it there to stay. 

But secretly from thence that night her bore away. 

They which remaynd, so soone as they perceiv*d 
That she was gone, depart d thence \Aith speed. 
And follow'd them, in mind her to have reav'd 
From wight unworthie of so noble meed. 
In which poursuit how each one did succeede. 
Shall else be to d In order, as it fell. 
But now of Br i torn art it here doth neede 
The hard adventures and strange haps to tell ; 
Since with the rest she went not after Florimell. 

For soone as she them saw to discord set. 

Her list no longer in that place abide; 

But, takino: with her lovely Amoret, 

Upon her first adventure forth did ride, 

To see'vc her lov'd, making blind love her guide. 

IJiilucki ' mayd, to seeke her enemie ! 

Unluckie mayd, to seeke h m farre and wide. 

Whom, when he was unto herselfe most nie, 

She through his late disguizement could him not dcscrio ! 



4^ THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

So miicli tlie more her griefe, tlie more Iier toyle; 
Yet neither toyle nor griefe she once did sparo, 
In seeking him that should her paiae assoyle; 
Wherito great comfort in her sad misfare 
"Was Amoret, companion of her care : 
Who likewise sought her lover long miswent. 
The gentle Scudamoiir, whose heart whilearo 
That stryfull hag 'v\dth gealous discontent 
Had fiid, that he to fell reveng was fully bent ; 

Bent to revenge on blamelesse Britomart 

The crime wliich cursed Ate kindled earst, 

The which like thornes did pricke his gealous hart. 

And through his soule like poj^sued arrow perst,. 

That by no reason it might be reverst, 

[For ought that Glauce could or doe or say : 

For, aye the more that she the same reherst, 

The more it gauld and griev'd him night and day. 

That nought but dire revenge his anger mote de fray. 

So as they travelled, the drouping night. 

Covered with cloudie storme and bitter showre. 

That dreadfull seem'd to every living wight, 

Upon them fell, before her timely howre ; 

That forced them to seeke some covert bowre, 

Where they might hide their heads in quiet rest, 

And shrowd their persons from that stormie stowre. 

Not farre away, not meete for any guest. 

They spide a little cottage, Hke some poore mans nest ; 

Under a steepe hilles side it placed was, 

There where^ the mouldred earth had cav*d the banke ; 

And fast beside a little brooke did pas 

Of muddie water, that like puddle stanke, 

By which few crooked sallowes grew in ranke : 

Whereto approaching nigh, they heard the sound 

Of many yron hammers beating ranke. 

And answering their wearie turnes around, 

That seemed some blacksmith dwelt in that desert ground. 

Ther3 entring in, they found the goodman selfe 

Full busily unto his worke ybent ; 

W^ho was to weet a wretched wearish elfe, 

With hollow eyes and rawbone cheekes forspent. 

As if he had in prison long bene pent : 

Pull blacke and griesly did his face appeare, 

Besmeard with smoke that nigh his eye-sight blent; 

With rugged beard, and hoarie shagged heare, 

The wMck he never woiit to combe, or comely sheaxe. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 461 

Pude was his garment, and to rags all rent, 

]Ve better bad be, ne far better cared i 

Witb blistred bands emongst the cinders brent. 

And fingers filtbie witb long nayles unpared, 

Eigbt fit to rend tbe food on wbicli be fared. 

His name was Care ; a blacksmitb by bis trade, 

Tbat neitber day nor nigbt from working spared, 

But to small purpose yron wedges made ; 

Tbose be unquiet tbougbts tbat carefull minds invade. 

In wbicb bis worke be bad sixe servants prest. 

About tbe andvile standing evermore 

Witb buge great bammers, tbat did never rest 

From beaping stroakes wbicb thereon soused sore : 

All sixe strong groomes, but one then other more ; 

For by degrees they all were disagreed ; 

So likewise did the hammers which they bore 

Like belles in greatnesse orderly succeed, 

That he, which was the last, the first did farre exceede. 

He like a monstrous gyant seem'd in sight, 
Farre passing Bronteus or Pyracmon great. 
The which in Lipari doe day and night 
Frame thunderbolts for loves avengefull threate. 
So dreadfully he did the andvile beat, 
Tbat seem'd to dust be shortly would it drive : 
So huge his hammer, and so fierce his heat, 
That seem'd a rocke of diamond it could rive^ 
And rend asunder quite, if he thereto list strive. 

Sir Scudamour there entring ; much admired 

Tbe manner of their worke and wearie paine : 

And, having long beheld, at last enquired 

The cause and end thereof; but all in vaine ; 

For they for nought would from their worke refraine, 

!Ne let his speeches come unto their eare. 

And eke tbe breathfullJbellows blew amaine. 

Like to the nortbren winde, that none could heare ; 

Those pensifenesse did more ; and sighes the bellows weare. 

Which when that warriour saw, he said no more, 
But in his armour layd him downe to rest : 
To rest be layd him downe upon the flore, 
(Wbylome for vcntrous knights tbe bedding best,) 
And thought bis wearie limbs to have redrest. 
And that old aged c!am?, bis faithfuU squire. 
Her feeble ioynts layd eke adowne to rest ; 
Tbat needed much her weako age to desire, 
After so long a travell which them both did tire. 



462 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

There lay Sir Scudamour long while expecting 

When gentle sleep e his heavie eyes vs'ould close ; 

Oft chaunging sides, and oft new place electing. 

Where better seem'd he mote himselfe repose ; 

And oft in T^Tath he thence againe uprose ; 

And oft in wrath he layd him downe againe. 

But, wheresoere he did himselfe dispose. 

He by no meanos could wished ease obtaine : 

So every place seem'd painefull, and ech changing vaine. 

And evermore, when he to sleepe did thinke. 
The hammers sound his senses did molest ; 
And evermore, when he began to winke, 
The bellowes noyse disturb'd his quiet rest, 
"Ne sufFred sleepe to settle in his brest. 
And all the night the dogs did barke and howle 
About the house, at sent of stranger guest : 
And now the crowing cocke, and now the owle 
Lowde shriking, him afflicted to the very sowle. 

And, if by fortune any litle nap 

Upon his heavie eye-lids chaunst to fall, 

Eftsoones one of those villeins him did rap 

Upon his head-peece with his yron mall ; 

That he was soone awaked therewithall, 

And lightly started up as one affray d, 

Or as if one him suddenly did call : 

So oftentimes he out of sleepe abrayd. 

And then lay musing long on that him ill apayd. 

So long he muzed, and so long he lay. 

That at the last, his wearie sprite opprest 

With fleshly weaknesse, which no creature may 

Long time resist, gave place to kindly rest, 

That all his senses did full soone arrest: 

Yet, in his soundest sleepe, his dayl^ feare 

His ydle braine gan busily molest, ^ 

And made him dreame those two disloyall were : 

The things, that day most minds, at night doe most appeare. 

With that the wicked carle, the maister smith, 

A paire of red-whot yron tongs did take 

Out of the burning cinders, and therewith 

Under his side him nipt ; that, forst to wake. 

He felt his hart for very paine to quake. 

And started up avenged for to be 

On him the which his quiet slomber brake : 

Yet, looking round about him, none could see : 

Yet did the smart remaine, though he himselfe did flee. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 4iG3 

In sucli disquiet and hart-fretting payne 

He all that night, that too long night, did passe. 

And now the day out of the ocean mayne 

Be^an to peepe above this earthly masse, 

"With pearly dew sprinkling the morning grasse : 

Then up he rose like heavie lumpe of lead, 

That m his face, as in a looking glasse, 

The signes of anguish one mote plainely read, 

And ghesse the man to be dismayd with gealous dread. 

Unto his lofty steede he clombe anone. 
And forth upon his former voiage fared, 
And with him eke that aged squire attone; 
Who, whatsoever perill was prepared. 
Both equall paines and equaU perill shared: 
The end whereof and daungerous event 
Shall for another canticle be spared: 
But here my wearie teeme, nigh over-spent. 
Shall breath itselfe awhile after so long a went. 



CANTO YI. 

Both Scud amour and Arthegall 

Doe fight with Britomart : 
He sees her face ; doth fall in love. 

And soone from her depart. 

What equall torment to the griefe of mind 

And pyning anguish hid in gentle hart, 

That inly feeds itselfe with thoughts unkind. 

And nourisheth her owne consuming smart ! 

What medicine can any leaches art 

Yeeld such a sore, that doth her grievance hide. 

And will to none her maladie impart ! 

Such was the wound that Scudamour did gride; ^ 

For which Dan Phebus selfe cannot a salve provide. 

Who having left that restlesse house of Care, 

The next day, as he on his way did ride, 

Full of melancholic and sad misfare 

Through niisconceipt, all unawares espide 

An armed knight under a forrest side 

Sitting in shade beside his grazing steede; ^ 

Who, soone as tnem approaching lie descride, 

Gan towards them to pricke with eger speede. 

That seem'd he was full bent to some mischievous deedc 



464 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

"VYhicli ScTidamour perceiving fortli issewed 

To have rencountred him in equall race; 

But, soone as th' other nigh approaching vewed 

The armes he bore, his speare he gan abase 

And voide his course; at which so suddain case 

He wondred much : but th' other thus gan say ; 

" Ah ! gentle Scudamour, unto your grace 

I me submit, anii you of pardon pray, 

That almost had against you trespassed this day." 

Whereto thus Scudamour ; " Small harme it wero 
For any knight upon a ventrous knight 
Without displeasance for to prove his spere. 
33ut reade you, sir, sith ye my name have hight, 
Wliat is your owne, that I mote you requite." 
" Certes," sayd he, ** ye mote as now excuse 
Me from discovering you my name aright : 
For time yet serves that I the same refuse; 
But call ye me the salvage knight, as others use.*' 

" Then this, sir salvage knight," qiioth he, "areede; 
Or doe you here within this forrest wonne. 
That seemeth well to answere to your weede, 
Or have ye it for some occasion donne ? 
That rather seemes, sith knowen armes ye shonne.** 
" This other day," sayd he, " a stranger knight 
Shame and dishonour hath unto me donne ; 
On whom I waite to wreake that foule despight, 
Whenever he this way shall passe by day or niglit.*' 

" Shame be his meede," quoth he, " that meaneth shame. 

But what is he by whom ye shamed were?" 

** A stranger knight," sayd he, " unknowne by name, 

But knowne by fame, and by an hebene speare 

With which he all that met him downe did beare. 

He, in an open turney lately held. 

Fro me the honour of that game did reare ; 

And having me, all wearie earst, downe feld, 

The fayrest ladie reft, and ever since withheld." 

When Scudamour heard mention of that speare. 

He wist right well that it was Britomart, 

The which from him his fairest love did beare. 

Tho gan he swell in every inner part 

For fell despight, and gnaw his gealous hart. 

That thus he sharply sayd ; *' [Now by my head, 

Yet is not this the first unknightly part. 

Which that same knight, whom by his launce I read. 

Hath doen to noble knights, that many makes Imn dread: 



THE FAEEIB QUEENE. 465 

*'For lately he my love liatb. fro me reft. 

And eke defiled witli foule villanie 

Tiie sacred pledge wliicb in his faith was leffc. 

In shame of knighthood and fidelitie ; 

The which ere long full deare he shall able : 

And if to that avenge by you decreed 

This hand may helpe, or succour ought supplie, 

It shall not fayle whenso ye shall it need." 

So both to wreake their wrathes on Britomart agreed. 

"Whiles thus they communed, lo ! farre away 

A kr]ight soft ryding towards them they spyde, 

Attyr'd in forraine armes and straunge aray: 

Whom when they ni^h approcht, they plaine descryde 

To be the same for whom they did abyde. 

Sayd then Sir Scudamour, " Sir Salvage Knight, 

Let me this crave, sith first I was delyde, 

That first I may that wrong to him requite : 

And, if I hap to fayle, you shall recure my right." 

Which being yeelded, he his threatfull speare 

Gan fewter, and against her fiercely ran, 

Who soone as she him saw approching neare 

With so fell rage, herselfe she lightly gan 

To dight, to welcome him well as she can ; 

But entertaind him in so rude a wise, 

That to the ground she smote both horse and liian; 

Whence neither greatly hasted to arise, ^ 

But on their common harmes together did devise. 

But Artegall, beholding his mischaunce, 

JSi'ew matter added to his former fire ; 

And, eft avcntring his Steele, headed launce. 

Against her rode, ftdl of despiteous ire, 

That nought but spoyle and vengeance did require: 

But to himselfe his felonous intent 

Returning disappointed his desire, 

Whiles unawares his saddle he forwent. 

And found himselfe on ground in great amazement* 

Lightly he started up out of that stound, 

And snatching forth his direfull deadly blado 

Did leape to her, as doth an eger hound 

Thrust to an hynd within some covert glade. 

Whom without peril! he cannot invade : 

W^ith such fell greedines he her assayled, 

That though she mounted were, yet he her made 

To give him ground, (so much his force prevaylcd,) 

And shun his mightie strokes, gainst which no ai*mes avayled. 



4j66 the faeeie queene.. 

So, as tliey coursed here and there, it chaimst 
That, in her wheehng round, behind her crest 
So sorely he her strooke, that thence it glaunst 
Adowne her backe, the which it fairely blest 
From foule mischance ; ne did it ever rest. 
Till on her horses hinder parts it fell ; 
Where by ting deepe so deadly it imprest. 
That quite it chynd his backe behind the sell. 
And to alight on foote her algates did compell: 

Like as the lightning-brond from riven skie, 
Throwne out by angry love in his vengeance, 
With dreadful! force falles on some steeple hie; 
Which battring downe, it on the church doth glanc^ 
And teares it all with terrible mischance. 
Yet she no whit dismay d her steed forsooke; 
And, casting from her that enchaunted lance, 
Unto her sword and shield her soone betooke; 
And therewithall at him right furiously she stroote. 

So furiously she strooke in her first heat. 
Whiles with long fight on foot he breatlilesse was. 
That she him forced backward to retreat, 
And yeeld unto her weapon way to pas : 
W^hose raging rigour neither Steele nor bras 
Could stay, but to the tender flesh it went, 
And pour'd the piu-ple bloud forth on the gras ; 
That all his mayle yriv'd, and plates yrent, 
Shew'd all his bodie bare unto the cruell dent. 

At length, whenas he saw her hastie heat 

Abate, and panting breath began to fayle. 

He through long sufferance growing now more great, 

l^ose in his strength, and gan her fresh assayle. 

Heaping huge strokes as thicke as showre of hayle. 

And lashing dreadfully at every part, 

As if he thought her soule to disentrayle. 

Ah ! cruell hand, and thrise more cruell hart. 

That workst such wrecke on her to whom thou dearest art ! 

What yron courage ever could endure 

To worke such outrage on so faire a creature : 

And in his madnesse thinke with hands impure 

To spoyle so goodly workmanship of nature. 

The Maker selfe resembling in her feature ! 

Certes some hellish furie or some feend 

This mischiefe framd, for their first loves defeature, 

To bath their hands in bloud of dearest freend, 

Thereby to make their loves beginning their lives end. 



THE FASEIE QUEENE. 467 

Tims long they traced and traverst to and fro. 

Sometimes pursewing, and sometimes pursewed, 

Still as advantage they espyde thereto : 

But toward th* end Sir Arthegall renewed 

His strength still more, but she still more decrewed. 

At last his lucldcsse hand he heav'd on hie. 

Having his forces all in one accrewed, 

And therewith stroke at her so hideouslie, 

That seemed nought but death mote be her destinio. 

The .wicked stroke upon her helmet chaunst. 

And with the force, which in itselfe it bore, 

Her ventayle shard away, and thence forth glaunst 

Adowne in vaine, ne harm'd her any more. 

With that, her angels face, unseen e afore. 

Like to the ruddie morne appeard in sight, 

Deawed with silver drops through sweating sore ; 

But somewhat redder then beseem'd ari<jht. 

Through toylesome heate and labour of her weary fight: 

And round about the same her yellow heare. 

Having through stirring loosd their wonted band. 

Like to a golden border did appeare. 

Framed in goldsmithes forge with cunning hand: 

Yet goldsmithes cunning could not understand 

To frame such subtile wire, so shinie cleare; 

Por it did glister like the golden sand, 

The which Pactolus with his waters shere 

Throwes forth upon the rivage round about him nere. 

And as his hand he up againe did reare. 
Thinking to worke on her his utmost wracke, 
His powrelesse arme benumbd with secret feare 
From his revengefull purpose shronke abacke. 
And cruell sword out of his fingers slacke 
Fell downe to ground, as if the Steele had senco 
And felt some ruth, or sence his hand did lacke. 
Or both of them^ did thinke obedience 
To doe to so divine a beauties excellence. 

And he himselfe, long gazing thereupon. 

At last fell humbly downe upon his knee. 

And of his wonder made religion, 

Weening some heavenly goddesse he did see. 

Or else unweeting what it else might bee ; 

And pardon her besought his errour fra^'le. 

That had done outrage in so high degree : 

Whiles t trembling horrour did his sense assayle. 

And made ech member quake, and manly hart to quaylc. 



468 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

I^atlielesse slie, full of wrath, for that late stroto. 
All that long T^hile upheld her wrathfull hand. 
With fell intent on him to bene ywroke ; 
And, looking sterne, still over h.im did stand, 
Threatning to strike unlesse he would withstand; 
And bad him rise, or surely he should die. 
But, die or live, for nought he would upstand ; 
But her of pardon prayd more earnestlie, ^ 
Or wreake on him her will for so great iniurie. 

Which, wlienas Scudamour, who now abrayd. 
Beheld, whereas he stood not farre aside, 
He was therewith right wondrously dismayd ; 
And drawing nigh, whenas he plaine descride 
That peerelesse paterne of dame natures pride 
And heavenly image of perfection, 
He blest himselfe as one sore terrifide ; 
And, turning feare to fiiint devotion. 
Did worship her as some celestiall vision. 

But Glance^ seeing all that chaunced there. 

Well weeting how their errour to assoyle. 

Full glad of so good end, to them drew nere. 

And her salewd with seemely bel-accoyle, 

loyous to see her safe after long toyle : 

Then her besought, as she to her was deare. 

To graunt uuto those warriours truce awhyle ; 

Which yeelded, they their bevers up did reare, 

And shew'd themselves to her such as indeed they were. 

When Britomart with sharp avizefull eye 

Beheld the lovely face of Artegall 

Tempred with sternesse and stout maiestie, 

She gan eftsoones it to her mind to call 

To be the same which, in her fathers hall, 

Long since in that enchaunted glasse she saw; 

Therewith her wrathfull courage gan appall, 

And haughtie spirits meekely to adaw. 

That her enhaunced hand she downe can soft withdraw. 

Yet she it forst to have againe upheld. 

As fayning choler which was turn'd to cold : 

But ever, when his visage she beheld, 

Her hand fell downe, and would no longer hold 

The wrathfull weapon gainst his countnance bold: 

But, when in vaine to fight she oft assayd. 

She arm'd her tongue, and thought at him to scold: 

Nathlesse her tongue not to her will obayd, [sayd. 

But brought forth speeches my Id when she would have mis- 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 469 

But Sciidamour now woxen inly glad 

That all Hs gealous feare lie false bad found, 

And how that hag his love abused had 

With breach of faith and loyaltie unsound. 

The which long time his grieved hart did wound, 

He thus bespake ; " Certes, Sir Artegall, 

I ioy to see you lout so low on ground, 

And now become to live a ladies thrall, 

That whylome in your minde wont to despise them all. 

Soone as she heard the name of Artegall, 

Her hart did leape, and all her heart-strings tremble, 

For sudden ioy and secret feare withall ; 

And all her vitall powres, with motion nimble 

To succour it, themselves gan tliere assemble ; 

That by the swift recourse of flushing blood ^ 

Bight plaine appeard, though she it would dissemble, 

And fayned still her former angry mood, 

Thinking to hide the depth by troubling of the flood. 

vVlien Glance thus gan wisely all upknit ; 

" Ye gentle knights, whom fortune here hath brought 

To be spectatois of this uncouth fit. 

Which secret fate hatli in this ladie wrought 

Against the course of kind, ne mervaile nought; 

Ne thenceforth feare the thing that hethertoo 

Hath troubled both your mindes with idle thought. 

Fearing least she your loves away should woo ; 

Feared in vaine, sith meanes ye see there wants theretoo 

"And you. Sir Artegall, the salvage knight, 

Henceforth may not disdaine that womans hand 

Hath conquered you anew in second fight : 

For whylome they have conquered sea, and land, 

And heaven itselfe, that nought may them withstand ; 

Ne henceforth be rebellious unto love, 

That is the crowne of knighthood and the band 

Of noble minds derived from above, 

Which, being knit with vertue, never will remove. 

** And you, faire ladie knight, my dearest dame, 
[Relent the rigour of your wrathfull will, 
Whose fire were better turn'd to other flame ; 
And, wiping out remembrance of all ill, 
Graunt him your grace ; but so that ho fulfill 
The penance which ye shall to him empart: 
For lovers heaven must passe by sorrowes hell.** 
Thereat full inly blushed Britomart ; 
But Artegall close-smyling ioy'd in secret hart. 
Zi. 



470 THE FAESIE QUEENE. 

Yet durst lie not make love so suddenly, 

Ne tliinke th' affection of her hart to draw 

From one to other so quite contrary : 

Besides her modest countenance he saw 

So goodly grave, and full of princely aw. 

That it his ranging fancie did refraine, 

And looser thoughts to lawfull bounds withdraw 5 

Whereby the passion grew more fierce and faine, [straino. 

Like ^>o a stubborne steede whom strong hand vrould re- 

But Scudamour, whose hart twixt doubtfull feare 
And feeble hope hung all this while suspence. 
Desiring of his Amoret to heare 
Some giadfull newes and sure intelligence. 
Her thus bespake ; " But, sir, without offence 
Mote I request you ty dings of my love, 
My Amoret, sith you her freed fro thence 
Where she, captived long, great woes did prove ; 
That where ye left I may her seeke, as doth behove/* 

To whom thus Britomart ; " Certes, sir knight. 

What is of her become, or whether reft, 

I cannot unto you aread aright. 

For from that time I from enchaunters theft 

Her freed, in which ye her all hopelesse left, 

I her preserv'd from perill and from feare. 

And evermore from villenie her kept : 

"Ne ever was there wight to me more deare ^ 

Then she, ne unto whom I more true love did beare : 

" Till on a day, as through a desert wyld 

We travelled, both wearie of the way 

We did alight, and sate in shadow myld ; 

Where fearelesse I to sleepe me downe did lay: 

But, whenas I did out of sleepe abray, 

I found her not where I her left whyleare. 

But thought she wandred was, or gone astray: 

I cal'd her loud, I sought her farre and neare ; 

But no where could her find, nor tydings of her heare."* 

When Scudamour those heavie tydings heard, 
His hart was thrild with point of deadly feare, 
"Ne in his face or bloud or life appeard ; 
But senselesse stood, hke to a mazed steare 
Tbat yet of mortall stroke the stound doth beare : 
Till G-lauce thus ; "Faire sir, be nought dismay d 
With needlesse dread, till certaintie ye heare ; 
For yet she may be safe though somewhat strayd : 
Its best to hope the best, though of the worst affrayd. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 471 

ITatlielesse lie hardly of her chearefull speech 

Pid comfort take, or in his troubled sight 

Shew'd change of better cheare ; so sore a breach 

That sudden newse had made into his spright ; 

Till Britomart him fairely thus behight ; 

** Great cause of sorrow certes, sir, ye have ; 

Eut comfort take ; for, by this heavens light, 

I vow yoti dead or living not to leave. 

Til I her find and wreake on him that did her reave." 

Therewith he rested, and well pleased was. 

So, peace being confirm'd amongst them all. 

They tooke their steeds, and forward thence did pas 

Unto some resting place, which mote befall ; 

All being guided by Sir Artegall : 

Where goodly solace was unto them made, 

And dayly feasting both in bowre and hall, 

Untill that they their wounds well healed had. 

And wearie limmes recur'd after late usage bad. 

In all which time Sir Artegall made way 
Unto the love of noble Britomart, 
And with meeke service and much suit did lay 
Continuall siege unto her gentle hart ; 
Which, being whylome launcht with lovely dart, 
More eath was new impression to receive : 
However she her paynd with womanish art 
To hide her wound, that none might it perceive : 
Vaine is the art that seekes itselfe for to deceive. 

So well he woo'd her, and so well he wrought her. 

With faire entreatie and sweet blandishment, 

That at the length unto a bay he brought her, 

So as she to his speeches was content 

To lend an eare, and softly to relent. 

At last, through many vowes which forth he pour*d. 

And many othes, she yeelded her consent 

To be his love, and take him for her lord. 

Till they with marriage meet might finish that accord, 

Tho, when they had long time there taken rest. 
Sir Artegall, who all this while was bound 
Upon an hard adventure yet in quest. 
Fit time for him thence to depart it found, 
To follow that which he did long propound j 
And unto her his congee came to take : 
But her therewith full sore displeasd he found. 
And loth to leave her late betrothed make ; 
Her dearest lovo full loth so shortly to forsakei 



472 Tme paebie qiteene. 

-Yet Tie witli strong perswasions her asswaged. 

And wonne her will to suffer him depart ; 

For which his faith with her he fast engaged, 

And thousand vowes from bottome of his hart. 

That, all so soone as he by wit or art 

Could that atchieve whereto he did aspire,. 

He unto her would speedilj^ revert : 

No longer space thereto he did desire, 

But till the horned moone three courses did expire. 

With which she for the present was appeased, 

And yeelded leave, however malcontent 

She inly were and in her mind displeased. 

So, early on the morrow next, he went 

Porth on his way to which he was ybent ; 

"Ne wight him to attend, or way to guide, 

As whylome was the custom e ancient 

Mongst knights when on adventures they did ride. 

Save that she algates him a while accompanidoa 

And by the way she sundry purpose found 
Of this or that, the time for to delay. 
And of the perils whereto he was bound, 
The feare whereof seem'd much her to affray: 
But all she did was but to weare out day. 
Pull oftentimes she leave of him did take; 
And eft againe deviz'd somewhat to say, 
AYJiich she forgot, whereby excuse to make : 
So loth she was his companie for to forsake. 

At last when all her speeches she had spent. 

And new occasion fay Id her more to find, 

She left him to his fortunes government, ^ 

And backe returned with right heavie mind; 

To Scudamour, whom she had left behind ; 

With whom she went to seeke faire Amoret, 

Her second care, though in another kind : 

For vertues onely sake, whicli doth beget 

True love and faithfuU friendship, she by her did set. 

Backe to that desert forrest they retyred, 
Where sorie Britomart had lost her late : ^ 
There they her sought, and every where inquired 
"Where they might tydings get of her estate; 
Yet found they none. But, by what haplesse fat© 
Or hard misfortune she was thence convayd. 
And stolne away from her beloved mate, 
Were long to tell : therefore I here will stay 
Untill another tyde, that I it finish may. 



XHE SAEBIE QUEENS. 4S% 



■ CANTO vn. 

Amoret rapt by greedie lust 

Belphebe saves from dread: 
The squire her loves ; and, being blam*d. 

His dales in dole doth lead. 

Great god of love, that witli tliy cruell darts 

Doest conquer greatest conquerors on ground, 

And setst thy kingdome in the captive harts 

Of kings and keasars to thy service bound; 

"What glorie or what guerdon hast thou found 

In feeble ladies tyranning so sore, 

And adding anguish to the bitter wound 

With which their lives thou lanchedst long afore, 

By heaping stormes of trouble on them daily more ! 

So whylome didst thou to faire Florimell ; 

And so and so to noble Britomart : 

So doest thou now to her of whom I tell. 

The lovely Amoret, whose gentle hart 

Thou martyrest with sorrow and with smart. 

In salvage forrests and in deserts wide 

Witli beares and tygers taking heavie part, 

Withouten comfort and witliouten guide; 

That pittie is to heare the perils, winch she tride. 

So soone as she with that brave Britonesse 

Had left that turneyment for beauties prise. 

They travel'd long ; that now for wearinesse, 

Both of the way and warlike exercise,^ 

Both through a forest ryding did devise 

T' alight, and rest their wearie lunbs a while. 

There heavie sleepe the eye-lids did surprise 

Of Britomart after long tedious toyle. 

That did her passed paines in quiet rest assoylc. 

That whiles fair Amoret, of nought afieard, 

Walkt through the wood, for pleasure or for need. 

When suddenly behind her backe she heard 

One rushing forth out of the thickest weed. 

That, ere she backe could turne to taken heed. 

Had unawares her snatched up from ground: 

Feebly she shriekt, but so feebly indeed 

That Britomart heard not the shrilling sound, 

There where through weary travel she lay sleeping sound. 



474 THE FAERIE QtTEENB. 

It was to weet a wilde and salvage man; 

Yet was no man, but onely like in shape. 

And eke in stature higher by a span ; 

All overgrowne with haire, that could awhape 

An hardy hart ; and his wide mouth did gape 

"With huge great teeth, like to a tusked bore : 

For he Hv'd all on ravin and on rape 

Of men and beasts ; and fed on fleshly gore, 

The signe whereof yet stain'd his bloudy lips afore. 

His neather lip was not like man nor beast, 

But like a wide deepe poke downe hanging Iott, 

In which he wont the relickes of his feast 

And cruell spoyle, which he had spard, to stow: 

And over it his huge great nose did grow, 

Full dreadfully empurpled all with bloud ; 

And downe both sides two wide long eares did glow. 

And raught downe to his waste when up he stood, 

More great than th' eares of elephants by Indus flood. 

His wast was with a wreath of y vie greene 

Engirt about, ne other garment wore; 

Por all his haire was like a garment scene ; 

And in his hand a tall young oake he bore. 

Whose knottie snags were sharpned all afore. 

And beath'd in fire for Steele to be in sted. 

But whence he was, or of what wombe ybore. 

Of beasts, or of the earth, I have not red ; 

But cerces was with milke of wolves and tygres fed. 

This ugly creature in his armes her snatcht, 

And through the forrest bore her quite away 

With briers and bushes all to rent and scratcht ; 

]S"e care he had, ne pittie of the pray, 

Which many a knight had sought so many a day : 

He stayed not, but in his armes her bearing 

Ban, till he came to th' end of all his way. 

Unto his cave farre from all peoples hearing, [Ing. 

And there he threw her in, nought feeling, ne nought fear* 

For she (deare ladie) all the way was dead, 

Whilest he in armes her bore ; but, when she felt 

Herselfe downe soust, she waked out of dread 

Streight mto griefe, that her deare hart nigh swelt. 

And eft gan into tender teares to melt. 

Then when she lookt about, and nothing found 

But darknesse and dread horrour where she dwelt, 

She almost fell againe into a swound ; 

Ne wist whether above she were or under ground. 



THE PAERIE QTTEENE. 4i75 

\Yith that she heard some one close by her side 
Sighinp: and sobbing sore, as if the paine 
Hei tender heart in pieces would divide : 
Which she so long listning, softly askt againe 
What mister wight it was that so did plaine ? 
To whom thus aunswer'd was, " Ah ! wretched wight. 
That seekes to know anothers grief e in vaine, 
Unweeting of thine owne like haplesse plight : 
Selfe to forget to mind another is ore-sight !" 

' Aye me !" said she, " where am I, or with whom ? 
Emong the living, or emong the dead ? 
What shall of me unhappy maid become? 
Shall death be th* end, or ought else worse, aread?'* 
" Unhappy mayd," then answer'd she, " whose dread 
Untride is lesse then when thou shalt it try : 
Death is to him, that wretched life doth lead, 
Both grace and gaine ; but he in hell doth lie, 
That lives a loathed life, and vrishing cannot die. 

*' This dismall day hath thee a caytive made. 
And vassall to the vilest wretch alive ; 
Whose cursed usage and ungodly trade 
The heavens abhorre, and into darknesse drive : 
Por on the spoile of women he doth live. 
Whose bodies chast, whenever in his powre 
He may them catch unable to gainestrive. 
He with his shamefull lust doth first deflowre. 
And afterwards themselves doth cruelly devoure. 

** Now twenty daies, by which the sonnes of men 
Divide their works, have past through heven shcene, 
Since I was brought into this dolefull den ; 
During which space these sory eies have seen 
Seaven women by him slaine and eaten clene ; 
And now no more for him but I alone. 
And this old woman, here remaining beene, 
Till thou cam'st hither to augment our mono ; 
And of us three to-morrow he will sure eat one." 

" Ah ! dreadfull tidings which thou docst declare," 

Quoth she, *'of all that ever hath beene knowen! 

Full many great calamities and rare 

This feeble brest endured hath, but none 

Equall to this, whereever I have gone. 

But what are you, whom like unlucky lot 

Hath lin(;kt with me in the same chaine attone?" 

*' To tell," quoth she, *'that which ye see, needs not| 

A wofuU wretched maid, of God and man forgot ! 



d.76 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

" But what I was, it irkes me to reherse ; 
Daughter unto a lord of high degree ; 
That iojed in happy peace, till fates perversa 
With guilefull love did secretly a^ree 
To overthrow my state and dignitie. 
It was my lot to love a gentle swaine, 
Yet was he but a squire of low degree ; 
Yet was he meet, -unless mine eye did faine, 
By any ladies side for leman to have laine. 

*'But, for his meannesse and disparagement. 
My sire, who me too dearely well did love. 
Unto my choise by no meanes would assent, 
But often did my folly fowle reprove : 
Yet nothing could my fixed mind remove. 
But, whether will'd or nilled friend or foe, 
I me resolv'd the utmost end to prove ; 
And, rather then my love abandon so, 
Both sire and friends and all for ever to forgo. 

" Thenceforth I sought by secret meanes to worke 
Time to my will, and from his wrathfull sight 
To hide th* intent which in my heart did lurke, 
TiU I thereto had all things ready dight. 
So on a day, unweeting unto wight, 
I with that squire agreede away to flit. 
And in a privy place, betwixt «.s hight, 
"Within a grove appointed him to meete ; 
To which I boldly came upon my feeble feete. 

** But ah ! unhappy houre me thither brought : 
Por in that place where I him thought to find. 
There was I found, contrary to my thought. 
Of this accursed carle of hellish kind. 
The shame of men, and plague of womankind ; 
Who trussing me, as eagle doth his pray, ^ 
Me hether brought with him as swift as wind. 
Where yet untouched till this present day, 
I rest his wretched thrall, the sad ^mylia." 

*'Ah! sad -^mylia," then sayd Amoret, 

** Thy ruef ull plight I pitty as mine owne ! 

But read to me, oy what devise or wit 

Hast thou in all this time from him unknowne 

Thine honour sav'd, though into thraldome throwneP** 

** Through helpe," quoth she, " of this old woman here 

1 have so done, as she to me hath showne : 

For, ever when he burnt in lustfull fire, ^ 

She in my stead supphde his bestiall desire." 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 477 

Thus of their evils as they did discourse, 

And each did other rnucli bewaile and mone ; 

Loe ! where the villaino selfe, their sorrowes sourso. 

Came to the cave ; and rolling thence the stone, 

Which wont to stop the mouth thereof that none 

Might issue forth, came rudely rushing in. 

And, spredding over all the flore alone, 

Gan dight himselfe unto his wonted sinne ; 

Which ended, then his bloudy banket should beginne. 

Which whenas fearefuU Amorett perceived, 

She staid not th' utmost end thereof to try, 

But, like a ghastly gelt whose wits are reaved, 

Ean forth in hast with hideous outcry. 

For horrour of his shamefull villany: 

But after her full lightly he uprose, 

And her pursu'd as fast as she did flie: 

Full fast she flies, and farre afore him goes, 

Ne feeles the thorns and thickets pricke her tender toca. 

!N'or hedge, nor ditch, nor hill, nor dale she stales. 
But over-leapes them all, like robucke light, 
And through the thickest makes her nighest waics ; 
And evermore, when with regardfuU sight 
She looking backe espies the griesly wight 
Approching nigh, she gins to mend her pace. 
And makes her feare a spur to hast her flight ; 
More swift than Myrrh' or Daphne in her race, 
Or any of the Thracian JN^imphes in salvage chaco. 

Long so she fled, and so he followed long ; 

"Ne living aide for her on earth appeares. 

But if the heavens helpe to redresse her wrong. 

Moved w'ith pity and her plenteous teares. 

It fortuned Belphebe with her peares 

The w^oody Nimplis, and with that lovely boy. 

Was hunting then the libbards and the beares 

In these wild woods, as was her wonted ioy. 

To banish sloth that oft doth noble mindes annoy. 

It so befell, as oft it falls in chace, 

That each of them from other sundred were ; 

And that same gentle squire arriv'd in place 

Where this same cursed caytive did appeare 

Pursuing that faire lady full of feare : 

And now he her quite overtaken had ; 

And now he her away with him did beare 

Under his arm e, as seeming wondrous glad, 

That by his grenning laughter mote farre oiTbc racL 



4.78 THE FAESIE QUEENE. 

Which drery sight the gentle squire espyinj]^ 
Doth haste to crosse him by the nearest way. 
Led with that worull ladies i3iteoil's crying, 
And him assail es wdth ail the might he may; 
Yet will not he the lovely spoile down lay, 
But with his craggy club in his right hand 
Defends himselfe, and saves his gotten pray: 
Yet had it bene right bard him to withstand, 
But that he was full light and nimble on the land. 

Thereto the villaine used crafte in fight : 

[For, ever when the squire his iavelin shooke. 

He held the lady forth before him right, 

And with her body, as a buckler, broke 

The puissance of his intended stroke : 

And if it chaunst, (as needs it must in fight,) 

Whilest he on him was greedy to be wroke, 

That any little blow on her did light, 

Then would he laugh aloud, and gather great delight. 

Which subtill sleight did him encumber much, 

And made him oft, when he would strike, forbeare ; 

For hardly could he come the carle to touch, 

But that he her must hurt, or hazard neare : 

Yet he his hand so carefuHy did beare, 

Tiiat at the last he did himselfe attaine, 

And therein left the pike-head of his speare : 

A streame of coalblacke bloud thence gusht amaine, 

That all her silken garments did with bloud bestaine. 

With that he threw her rudely on the flore, 

And, laying both his hands upon his glave. 

With dreadfull strokes let drive at him so sore. 

That forst him fiie abacke, himselfe to save : 

Yet he therewith so felly still did rave. 

That scarse the squire his hand could once upreare. 

But, for advantage, ground unto him gave, 

Tracing and traversing, now here, now there ; 

For bootlesse thing it was to think such blowes to beare. 

Whilest thus in battell they embusied were, 

Belphebe, raunging in her forrest wide, 

The hideous noise of tlieir huge strokes did hear^ 

And drew thereto, making her eare her guide : 

Whom when that theefe approching nigh espide 

With bow in hand and arrowes ready bent. 

He by his former combate would not bide, 

But fled away with ghastly dreriment, 

Well knowing her to be his deaths sole instrument 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 479 

Whom seeing file, she speedily poursewed 
With winged feete, as nimble as the winde, 
And ever in her bow she ready shewed 
The arrow to his deadly marke desynde : 
As when Latonaes daughter, cruell kynde, 
In vengement of her mothers great disgrace. 
With fell despight her cruell arrowes tynde 
Gainst wofuU Niobes unhappy race, 
That all the gods did mone her miserable case. 

So well she sped her and so far she ventred. 
That, ere unto his hellish den he raught. 
Even as he ready was there to have entred, 
She sent an arrow forth with mighty draught. 
That in the very dore him overcaught, 
And, m his nape arriving, through it thrild, 
His greedy throte therewith m two distraught. 
That all his vitall spirites thereby spild, 
And all his hairy brest with gory bloud was fild 

Whom when on ground she groveling saw to rowle 

She ran in hast his life to have bereft ; 

But, ere she could him reach, the sinfuU sowle 

Having his carrion corse quite sencelesse left 

Was fled to hell, surcharg'd with spoile and theft : 

Yet over him she there long gazing stood. 

And oft admir'd his monstrous shape, and oft 

His mighty limbs, whilest all with filthy bloud 

The place there over-flowne seemd like a sodaine flood. 

Thenceforth she past into his dreadfull den. 

Where nought but darkesome drerinesse she found, 

"Ne creature saw, but hearkned now^ and then 

Some litle whispering, and soft-groning sound. 

With that she askt, what ghosts there under ground 

Lay hid in horrour of eternall night ; 

And bad them, if so be they were not bound. 

To come and shew themselves before the light. 

Now freed from feare and danger of that dismall wight. 

Then forth the sad -^myha issewed. 

Yet trembling every ioynt through former feare j 

And after her the hag, there with her mewed, 

A foule and lothsome creature, did appeare ; 

A leman fit for such a lover deare : 

That mov'd Belphebe her no lesse to hate. 

Then for to rue the others heavy cheare ; 

Of whom she gan enquire of her estate ; 

Who all to her at large, as hapned, did relate. 



480 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Thence slie tliem broup^Ht toward tlie place wliei'^ iate 
She left the gentle squire with Amoret : 
There she him found by that new lovely mate. 
Who lay the whiles in swoune, full sadly set. 
From her faire eyes wiping the deawy wet 
Which softly stild, and kissing them atweene. 
And handling soft the hurts which she did get : 
For of that carle she sorely bruz'd had beene', 
Als of his owne rash hand one wound was to be scene. 

Which when she saw with sodaine glauncing eye. 

Her noble heart, with sight thereof, was fild 

With deepe disdaine and great indignity, 

That in her wrath she thought them both have thrild 

With that selfe arrow which the carle had kild : 

Yet held her wrathfull hand from vengeance sore : 

But drawing nigh, ere he her well beheld, 

"Is this the faith?" she said — and said no more. 

But turnd her face, and fled away lor evermore. 

He, seeing her depart, arose up light. 
Bight sore agrieved at her sharpe teproofe. 
And follow'd fast : but, when he came in sight. 
He durst not nigh approch, but kept aloofe, 
For dread of her displeasure's utmost proofe : 
And evermore, when he did grace entreat. 
And framed speaches fit for his behoofe. 
Her mortall arrowes she at him did threat, 
^d forst him backe with fowle dishonor to retreat. 

At last, when long he follow'd had in vaine. 
Yet found no ease of griefe nor hope of grace, 
Unto those woods he turned backe againe. 
Full of sad anguish and in heavy case : 
And, finding there fit solitary place 
For wofuU wight, chose out a gloomy glade. 
Where hardly eye mote see bright heavens face 
For mossy trees, which covered all with shade 
And sad melancholy; there he his cabin made. 

His wonted warlike weapons all he broke 

And threw away, with vow to use no more, 

!Ne thenceforth ever strike in battell stroke, 

Ne ever word to speake to woman more ; 

But in that wildernesse, of men forlore 

And of the wicked world forgotten quight. 

His hard mishap in dolor to deplore. 

And wast his wretched dales in wofull plight :^ 

So on himseUe to wreake his follies owne despiglifc 



THE FAEEIE QITEENE. 481 

And eke his garment, to be thereto meet. 

He wilfully did cut and shape anew; 

And his faire lockes, that wont with ointment swccfc 

To be embaulm'd, and sweat out dainty dew. 

He let to grow and griesly to concrew, 

Uncomb'd, uncurl'd, and carelesly unshed ; 

That in short time his face they overgrew, 

And over all his shoulders did dispred, 

That who he whilome was uneath was to be red. 

There he continued in this carefull plight, 

Wretchedly wearing out his youthly yeares, 

Through wilfull penury consumed quight, 

Thjfl like a pined ghost he soone appeares : 

For other food then that wilde forrest beares, 

Ne other drinke there did he ever tast 

Then running water tempred with his teares. 

The more his weakened body so to wast : 

That out of all mens knowledge he was worne at last. 

For on a day, by fortune as it fell. 

His own deare Lord Prince Arthure came that way. 

Seeking adventures where he mote heare tell; 

And, as he through the wandring wood did stray. 

Having espide his cabin far away, 

He to it drew, to weet who there did wonne ; 

Weening therein some holy hermit lay. 

That did resort of sinfull people shonne ; [sunne. 

Or else some woodman shrowded there from ecorching 

Arriving there he found this wretched man 

Spending his dales in dolour and despaire, 

And, through long fasting, woxen pale and wan, 

All over-grovven with rude and rugged haire ; 

That albeit his owne dear squire he were, 

Yet he him knew not, ne aviz'd at all ; 

13ut like strange wight, whom he had scene no where, 

Saluting him, gan into speach to fall, 

And pitty much his plight, that liv'd like outcast thralL 

But to his speach he aunswered no whit, 

33ut stood still mute, as if he had beene dum^ 

Ne signe of sence did shew, ne common wit, 

As one with griefe and anguishe over-cum ; 

And unto every thing did aunswere mum ; 

And ever, when the prince unto him spaKO, 

He louted lowly, as did him becura, 

And humble homage did unto him make, 

Midst sorrow shewing ioyous semblance for Lis sake. 



482 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

At wliicL. Iiis uncouth guise and usage quaint 
The prince did wonder much, yet could not ghesCs^ 
The cause of that his sorrowfull constraint; 
Yet weend, by secret signes of manhnesse, 
Wliich close appeard in that rude brutishnesse. 
That he whilome some gentle swain e had beene, 
Traind up in feats of armes and knightlinesse ; 
Wbich he observ'd, by that he him had scene 
To weld his naked sword and try the edges keene i 

And eke by that he saw en every tree 

How he the name of one engraven had 

Which likly was his liefest love to be, 

From whom he now so sorely was bestad ; 

"Which was by him Belpliebe rightly rad : 

Yet who was that Belphebe he ne wist ; 

Yet saw he often how he wexed glad 

When he it heard, and how the ground he kist 

Wherein it written was, and how himselfe he blbt. 

Tho, when he long had marked his demeanor, 

And saw that all he said and did was vaine, 

Ne ought mote make him change his wonted tenox, 

"Ne ought mote cease to mitigate his paine ; 

He left him there in. languor to remain e 

Till time for him should remedy provide, 

And him restore to former grace againe : 

Which, for it is too long here to abide, 

I "wiil deferre the end untill another tide. 



CANTO YIII. 

The gentle squire recovers grace: 
• Sclaunder her guests doth staine: 
Corflambo chaseth Placidas, 
And is by Arthure slaine. 



Well said the wiseman, now prov'd true by thia 

Which to this gentle squire did happen late. 

That the displeasure of the mighty is 

TJien death itselfe more dread and desperate; 

For naught the same may calme, ne mitigate. 

Till time the tempest doe thereof delay 

With sufferaunce soft, which rigour can abate, 

And have the sterne remembrance wypt away 

Of bitter thoughts, which deepe therein infixed lay« 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 483 

JAVe as it fell to this unliappy boy, 

Whose tender heart the faire Belphebe had 

With one sierne looke so daunted, that no ioy 

In all his life, which after w-ards he lad, 

He ever tasted ; but with penaunce sad 

And pensive sorrow pind and wore away, 

Ne ever laught, ne once shew'd countenance glad ; 

But alwaies wept and wailed night and day, 

As blasted bloosme through heat doth languish and decay. 

Till on a day, as in his wonted wise 

His doole he made, there cliaunst a turtle doT6 

To come where he his dolors did devise, 

That likewise late had lost her dearest love. 

Which losse her made like passion also prove z 

Who, seeing his sad plight, her tender heart 

With deare compassion deeply did emmove, 

That she gan mone his undeserved smart, 

And with her dolefull accent beare with him a part. 

.Shea sitting by him, as on ground he lay. 

Her mournefull notes full piteously did frame. 

And thereof made a lamentable lay. 

So sensibly compyld that in the same 

Him seemed oft he heard his owne right name. 

With that he forth would poure so plenteous teares, 

And beat his breast unworthy of such blame. 

And knocke his head, and rend his rugged heares, 

That could have perst the hearst of tigres and of bearcs. 

Thus, long this gentle bird to him did use 

Withouten dread of perill to repaire 

Unto his wonne, and with her mournefull muso 

Him to recomfort in his greatest care. 

That much did ease his mourning and misfaro: 

And every day; for guerdon of her song, 

He part of his small feast to her would share ; 

That, at the last, of all his woe and wrong 

Companion she became, and so continued long. 

Upon a day, as she him sate beside, 
By chance he certaine miniments forth drew. 
Which yet with him as relickes did abide 
Of all the bounty which Belphebe tlircw 
On him, whilst goodly grace she did him shew: 
Amongst the rest a iewell rich he found, 
That was a ruby of right perfect hew, 
Shap'd like a heart yet bleeding of the wound. 
And with a litle golden chaine about it bound. 



484 THE FAERIE QUEENS. 

The same lie tooke, and with a riband new, 

In which his ladies colours were, did bind 

About ihe turtles necke, that with the vew 

Did greatly solace his enp:rieved mind. 

All unawares the bird, when she did find^ 

Herselfe so dekt, her nimble w^n^'s displaid. 

And flew away as lightly as the wind : 

Which sodaine accident him much dismaid ; 

And, looking after long, did marke which way she straid. 

!But when as long he looked had in vaine. 
Yet saw her forward still to make her flight, 
His weary eie returnd to him againe, 
Full of discomfort and disquiet plift'lit, 
That both his iuell he had lost so light. 
And eke his deare companion of his care. 
But that sweet bird departing flew forthright. 
Through the wide region of the wastfull aire, 
XJntill she came where wonned his Belphebe faire. 

There found she her (as then it did betide) 

Sitting in covert shade of arbors sweet, 

After late wearie toile which she had tride 

In salvage chase, to rest as seem'd her meet. 

There she, alighting, fell before her feet. 

And gan to her mournfull plaint to make, 

As was her wont, thinking to let her weet 

The great tormenting griefe that for her sake 

Her gentle squire through her displeasure did pertake. 

She, her beholding with attentive eye, 

At length did marke about her purple brest 

That precious iuell, which she formerly 

Had knowne right well with colourd ribbands drcst: 

Tiierewith she rose in hast, and her addrest ^ 

With ready hand it to have reft away: 

!But the swift bird obayd not her behest, 

!But swarv'd aside, and there againe did stay; 

She follow'd her, and thought againe it to assay. 

And ever, when she nigh approcht, the dove 
Would flit a little forward, and then stay 
Till she drew neare, and then againe remove : 
So tempting her still to pursue the pray. 
And still from her escaping soft away : 
Till that at length into that forrest wide 
She drew her far, and led with slow delay : 
In th' end she her unto that place did guide. 
Whereas that wofull man in languor did abide. 




"The dove 
Would flit a little forward, and then stay 
Till she drew neare, and then againe remove." 

Book IV. Canto VIII. Ver. 11. 



{ 



THE FAEEIE QtTEENE. 4S$ 



Effcesoones slie flew unto liis fearelesse hand. 
And there a piteous ditty nevy deviz'd, 
And if slie would have made him understand 
His sorrowes cause, to be of ker despis'd: ^ 
Whom when she saw in wretched weeds disguiz'd 
With heary gUb deform'd, and meiger face, 
Like ghost late risen from his grave a^ryz'd, 
She knew him not, but pittied much his case. 
And wisht it were in her to doe him any grace. 

He, her beholding, at her feet downe fell 

And kist the ground on which her sole did tread. 

And wast the same with water which did well 

From his moist eies, and like two streames procead, 

Yet spake no word, whereby she might aread 

W hat mister wight he was, or what he ment ; 

But, as one daunted with her presence dread, 

Onely few ruefull lookes unto her sent,^ 

As messenges of his true meaning and intent. 

Yet nathemore his meaning she ared, 

But wondred much at his so selcouth case; 

And by his persons secret seemlyhed 

Well weend that he had beene some man of place. 

Before misfortune did liis hew deface ; 

That, being mov'd with ruth, she thus bespake : 

" Ah ! wofuU man, what Heavens hard disgrace, 

Or wrath of cruell wight on thee ywrake, 

Or selfe- disliked life, doth thee thus wretched make ? 

** If Heaven ; then none may it redresse or blame, 

Sith to His powre we all are subiect borne ! 

If wrathfull wight ; then fowle rebuke and shame 

Be theirs that have so cruell thee forlorne ! 

But, if through inward griefe or wilfull scorno 

Of life, it be ; then better doe advise : 

For he, whose daies in wilfull woe are worne. 

The grace of his Creator doth despise, 

That will not use his gifts for thanklesse nigardise." 

WTien so he heard her say, eftsoones he brake, 

His sodaiue silence which he long had pent. 

And, sighing inly deepe, her thus bespake ; 

** Then have they all themselves aginst me bentl 

For Heaven, first author of my languishmcnt, 

Envying my too great felicity. 

Did cosely with a cruell one consent 

To cloud my daies in dole full nfisery, 

And make me loath this life, still longmg for to die. 



486 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

*' Ne any but yourselfe, O dearest Dred, 

Hatli done this Tvronf^, to wreake on worthlesse wiglit 

Your high displeasure, through misdeeming bred: 

That, when your pleasure is to -deeme aright, 

Ye may redresse, and me restore to light!" 

Which sory words her mightie hart did mate 

With mild regard to see his ruefull plight. 

That her inhuming wrath she gan abate, 

And him receiv'd againe to former favours state. 

In which he long time afterwards did lead 
An happie life with grace and good accord, 
Pearlesse of fortunes chaunge or envies dread. 
And eke all mindlesse of his own deare lord 
The noble prince, who never heard one word 
Of tydings, what did unto him betide. 
Or what good fortune did to him afford ; 
But through the endlesse world did wander wide, 
Him seeking evermore, yet no where him descride : 

Till on a day, as through that wood he rode, 

He chaunst to come where those two ladies late, 

^mylia and Amoret, abode, 

Both in full sad and sorrowfull estate ; 

The one right feeble through the evill rate 

Of food, which in her duresse she had found ; 

The other almost dead and desperate 

Through her late hurts, and through that haplesse wound 

With which the squire, in her defence, her sore astound. 

Whom when the prince beheld, he gan to rew 

The evill case in which those ladies la}^; 

But most was moved at the piteous vew 

Of Amoret, so neare unto decay, 

That her great daunger did him much dismay 

Eftsoones that pretious liquor forth he drew. 

Which he in store about him kept alway, 

And with few drops thereof did softly dew 

Her wounds, that unto strength restor'd her soone anew. 

Tho, when they both recovered were right well. 

He gan of them inquire, what evill guide 

Them thether brought, and how their harmes befell: 

To whom they told all that did them betide, _ 

And how from thraldome vile they were untide. 

Of that same wicked earle, by virgins bond ; 

Whose bloudie corso they shew'd him there beade, 

And eke his cave in which i^cy both were bond : 

At which he wondrcd much when all those signes he fond. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 487 

And evermore he greatly did desire 

To know, what virgia did them thence unbind; 

And oft of them did earnestly inquire, 

"Where was her won, and how he mote her find. 

But, whenas nought according to his mind 

He could out-learne, he them from ground did reare, 

(No service lothsome to a gentle kind,) 

Aad on his warlike beast them both did beare, 

Himselfe by them on foot to succour them from f eare. 

So when that forrest they had passed well, 

A litle cottage farre away they spide. 

To which they drew ere night upon them fell; 

And, entring in, found none therein abide. 

But one old woman sitting there beside 

Upon the ground in ragged rude attyre, 

With filthy lockes about her scattered wide. 

Gnawing her nayles for lelnesse and for yre, 

And there out sucking venime to her parts entyre. 

A foule and loathly creature sure in sight. 

And in conditions to be loath'd no lesse : 

For she was stuft with rancour and despight 

Up to the throat, that oft with bitternesse 

It forth would breake and gush in great excesso. 

Pouring out streames of pojson and of gall 

Gainst all that truth or vertue doe professe ; 

Whom she with leasings lewdly did miscall 

And wickedly backbite; her name did Sclaunder call. 

Her nature is, all goodnesse to abuse, 

And causelesse crimes continually to frame, 

With which she guiltlesse persons may accuse, 

And steale away the crowne of their good name : 

JSTe ever knight so bold, ne ever dame 

So chast and loyal liv'd, but she would strive 

With forged cause them falsely to defame; 

"Ne ever thing so well was doen alive, 

But she with blame would blot, and of due praise deprive. 

Her words were not, as common words are ment, 

T' expresse the meaning of the inward mind. 

Bat noysome breath, e-nd poysnous spirit sent 

From inward parts, with cancrcd malice lind, 

And breathed forth with blast of bitter wind; 

Which passing through the cares would pierce the hart. 

And wound the soule itselfe with griefe unkind: 

For, like the stings of aspes that kill with smart, 

Her spightfuU words did pricke and wound the inner part. 



488 THE PAEEIE QUEENE. 

Such was tliat hag, unmeet to host such guests, 

Whom greatest princes court would welcome faynet 

But neede, that answers not to all requests, 

Bad them not looke for better entertayne ; 

And eke that age despysed nicenesse vaine, 

Enur'd to hardnesse and to homely fare, 

Which them to warlike discipline did trayne. 

And manlj^ limbs endur'd with litle care 

Against all hard mishaps and fortunelesse misfare. 

Then all that evening, welcommed with cold 
And chearelesse hunger, they together spent ; 
Yet found no fault, but that the hag did scold 
And rayle at them with grudgefull discontent, 
[For lodging there without her owne consent: 
Yet they endured all with patience milde. 
And unto rest themselves all onely lent, 
Hegardlesse of that queane so base and vilde 
To be uniustly blamd and bitterly revilde. 

Here well I weene, whenas these rimes be red 

With misregard, that some rash- witted wight. 

Whose looser thought will lightly be misled. 

These gentle ladies will misdeeme too light 

Por thus conversing with this noble knight ; 

Sith now of dayes such temperance is rare 

And hard to linde, that heat of youthfull spright 

For ought will from his greedie pleasure spare : 

Mere hard for hungry steed t' abstaine from pleasant lare. 

But antique age, yet in the infancie 

Of time, did live then, like an innocent, 

In simple truth and blamelesse chastitie; 

"Ne then of guile had made experiment ; 

But, voide of vile and treacherous intent, 

Held vertue, for itselfe, in soveraine awe : 

Then loyal lo^e had royall regiment, 

And each unto his lust did make a lawe, 

'From all forbidden things his liking to withdraw. 

The lyon there did with the lambe consort. 
And eke the dove sate by the faulcons side; 
Ne each of other feared fraud or tort. 
But did in safe securitie abide, 
Withouten perill of the stronger pride : 
But when the world woxe old, it woxe warre old, 
(Whereof it higlit,) and, having shortly tride 
The traines of wit, in wickednesse woxe bold, 
And dared of aU sinnes the secrets to unfold. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 489 

Then beautie, wliicb. was made to represent 
The great Creatours owne resemblance bright. 
Unto abuse of lawlesse lust was lent, 
And made the baite of bestiall delight : 
Then faire grew foule, and foule grew faire in sight ; 
And that, which wont to vanquish God and man. 
Was made the vassall of the victors might ; 
Then did her glorious ilowre wex dead and wan, 
Deepisd and troden downe of all that over:ran : 

And now it is so utterly decayd, 

That any bud thereof doth scarse remaine, 

But if few plants, preserved through heavenly ayd. 

In princes court doe hap to sprout againe, 

Dew'd with her drops of bountie soveraine. 

Which from that goodly glorious flowre proceed, . 

Sprung of the auncient stocke of princes straine, 

JSTow th' onely remnant of that royall breed, 

Whose noble kind at first was sure of heavenly seed. 

Tho, soone as day discovered heavens face 
To sinfuU men with darknes over dight. 
This gentle crew gan from their eye-lids chace 
The drowzie humour of the dampish night. 
And did themselves unto their iourney dight. 
So forth they yode, and forward softly paced. 
That them to view had bene an uncouth sight ; 
How all the way the prince on footpace traced, 
Tho ladies both on horse together fast embraced. 

Soone as they thence departed were afore. 

That shamefuU hag, the slaunder of her sexe. 

Them follow'd fast, and them reviled sore. 

Him calling theefe, them whores ; that much did vexe 

His noble hart : thereto she did annexe 

False crimes and facts, such as they never ment. 

That those two ladies much ashamed did wexe : 

The more did she pursue her lewd intent. 

And rayl'd and rag'd, till she had all her poyson spent. 

At last, when they were passed out of sight. 

Yet she did not her spightfull speach forbeare. 

But after them did barke, and still backbite, 

Though there were none her hatefuU words to heare : 

Like as a curre doth felly bite and teare 

The stone, which passed straunger at him threw; 

So she, them seeing past the reach of eare, 

Against the stones and trees did rayle anew, 

Till she had duld the sting, which in her tongs end grew. 



490 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

Tliey passing forth kept on tlieir readie Tvay, 

With easie steps so soft as foot could stryde. 

Both for great feeblesse which did oft assay 

Faire Amoret, that scarcely she could ryde, 

And elvc throui^h heavie armes which sore annoyd 

The prince on foot, not wonted so to fare, 

Vvliose steadie hand was faine his steede to guyde. 

And all the way from trotting hard to spare ; 

So was his toyle the more, the more that was his care. 

At length they spide where towards them with speed 

A squire came galloping, as he would file, 

Bearing a Htle dwarfe before his steed, 

That all the way full loud for aide did crie, 

That seem'd his shrikes would rend the brasen skie 5 • 

Whom after did a mighty man purse w, 

B/vding upon a dromedare on hie, 

Of stature huge, and horrible of hew, 

That would have maz'd a man his dreadfull face to vew: 

Por from his fearefull eyes two fierie beames, 
More sharpe then points of needles, did proceede, 
Shooting forth farre away two flaming streames, 
Pull of sad powre, that poysnous bale did breedo 
To ail that on him lookt ^^•ithout good heed, 
And secretly his enemies did slay: 
Like as the basiliske, of serpents seede, 
Prom powrefull eyes close venim doth convay 
Into the lookers hart, and killeth farre away. 

He all the way did rage at that same squire. 

And after him full many threatnings threw, 

With curses vaine in his avengefull ire : 

But none of them (so fast away he flew) 

Him overtooke before he came in vew: 

Where when he saw the prince in armour bright, 

He cald to him aloud his case to rew, 

And rescue him, through succoui' of his might, 

Prom that his cruell foe that him pursewd in sight. 

Effcsoones the prince tooke downe those ladies twaine 

Prom loftie steede, and mounting in their stead 

Came to that squire yet trembling every vaine ; 

Of whom he gan enquire his cause of dread : 

Who as he gan the same to him aread, 

Loe ! hard behind his backe his foe was prest. 

With dreadfull weapon aymed at his head. 

That unto death had doen him unredrest. 

Had not the noble prince his readie stroke represt: 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 491 

Who, tlirustiiij? boldly twixt liim and tlie blow, 
Tke burden of the deadly brunt did beare 
Upon his shield, which lightly he did throw 
Over his head, before the liar me came neare: 
Nathlesse it fell with so dospiteous dreare 
And heavie sway, that hard unto his crowne 
The shield it drove, and did the covering reare : 
Therewith both squire and dwarfe did tomble downe 
Unto the earth, and lay long while in senselesse swowne. 

Wliereat the prince, full wrath, his strong right hand 

In full avengement heaved up on hie, 

And stroke the pagan with his steely brand 

So sore, that to his saddle-bow thereby 

He bowed low, and so a while did lie : 

And sure, had not his massie yron mace 

Betwixt him and his hurt bene happily. 

It would have cleft him to the girding place; 

Yet, as it was, it (lid astonish him long space. 

But, when he to himselfe returnd againe, 
All full of rage he gan to curse and sweare, 
And vow by Mahoune that he should be slaine. 
With that his murdrous mace he up did reare, 
That seemed nought the souse thereof could beare. 
And therewith smote at him with all his might ; 
But, ere that it to him approched neare. 
The royall child with readie quick foresight 
Did shun the proofs thereof and it avoyded light. 

But, ere his hand he could recure agame 
To ward his bodie from the balefull stound. 
He smote at him with all his might and maine 
So furiously that, ere he wist, he found 
His head before him tombl ng on the ground ; 
The whiles his babling tongue did yet blaspheme 
And curse his god that did him so cfon found ; 
The whiles his life ran foorth in bloudie strcame, 
His soule descended down into the Stygian reame. 

Which when that squire beheld, he woxe full glad 
To see his foe breathe out his spright in vaine : 
But that same dwarf right sorie seem'd and sad. 
And howld aloud to see his lord there slaine, 
And rent his haire and scratcht his face for paino. 
Then gan the prince at leasure to inquire 
Of all the accident there hapned plainc, 
And what ho was whose eyes did flame with ilre: 
Al which was thus to him declared by that squire. 



492 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

** This miglitie man," quoth he, " whom you have slaine. 

Of an huge geauntesse whylome was bred; 

And by his strength rule to himselfe did gaine 

Of many nations into thraldome led, 

And mightie kingdomes of his force adred. 

Whom yet he conquer'd not by bloudie fight, 

Ne hostes of men with banners brode disprcd, 

Eut by the powre of his infectious sight, 

With which he killed all that came within his might. 

^ "Ne was he ever vanquished afore, 

But ever vanquisht all with whom he fought ; 

ISTe was there man so strong, but he downe bore ; 

Ke woman yet so faire, but he her brought 

Unto his bay, and captived her thought : 

For most of strength and beautie his desire 

Was spoyle to make, and wast them unto nought, 

"By casting secret flakes of lustfull fire 

From his false eyes into their harts and parts entire. 

** Therefore Corflambo was he cald aright, 

Though namelesse there his bodie now doth lie ; 

Yet hath he left one daughter that is hight 

The faire Pseana : who seemxcs outwardly 

So faire as ever yet saw living eie ; ^ 

And, were her vertue like her beautie bright. 

She were as faire as any under skie : 

But ah ! she given is to vaine dehght, 

And eke too loose of life, and eke of love too light. 

" So, as it fell, there was a gentle squire 

That lov'd a ladie of high parentage ; 

But, for his meane degree might not aspire 

To match so high, her friends with counsell sage 

Dissuaded her from such a disparage: 

But she, whose hart to love was wholly lent, 

Out of his hands could hot redeeme her gage. 

But, firmely following her first intent, 

[Resolv'd with him to wend, gainst all her friends consent, 

** So twixt themselves they pointed time and place: 
To which when he according did repaire, 
An hard mishap and disaventrous case 
Him chaunst; instead of his ^mylia faire. 
This Gyants sonne, that lies there on the laire 
An headlesse heape, him unawares there caught. 
And all dismayd through mercilesse despaire 
Him wretched thrall unto his dongeon brought. 
Where he remaines of all imsuccour'd and unsought. 



THE TAEEIE QUEENE. 493 

" This gyants dangliter came upon a day 
Unto the prison, in her ioyous glee, 
To view the thrals which there in bondage lay t 
Amongst the rest she chaunced there to see 
This lovely swaine, the squire of low degree; 
To whom she did her liking lightly cast, 
And wooed him her paramour to bee : 
From day to day she woo'd and prayd him fast, 
And for liis love liim promist libertie at last. 

" He, though affide unto a former love. 

To whom faith he firmely ment to hold, 

Yet seeing not how thence he mote remove, 

But by that meanes which fortune did unfold, 

Her graunted love, but with affection cold, 

To win her grace his libertie to get : 

Yet he him still detaines in captive hold. 

Fearing, least if she should him freely set. 

He would her shortly leave, and former love forgot. 

'* Yet so much favour she to him hath higlit 
Above the rest, that he sometimes may space 
And walke about her gardens of delight, 
Having a keeper still with him in place ; 
Which keeper is this dwarfe, her dearling base. 
To whom the keyes of every prison dore 
By her committed be, of speciall grace, 
And at his will may whom he list restore, 
And, whom he list, reserve to be afflicted more. 

" Whereof when tydings came unto mine earo> 
Full inly sorie, for the fervent zeale 
Which I to him as to my soule did beare, 
I thether went ; where I did long conceale 
Myselfe, till that the dwarfe did me reveale. 
And told his dame her squire of low degree 
Did secretly out of her prison steale j 
For me he did mistake that squire to bee ; 
For never two so like did living creature see. 

" Then was I taken and before her brought ; 
Who, through the likenesse of my outward hew. 
Being likewise beguiled in her thought, 
Gan blame me much for being so untrew 
To seeke by fliglit her fellowship t' eschew. 
That lov'd me deare, as dearest thing alive. 
Thence she commaunded me to prison new : 
Whereof I glad did not gaine-say nor strive. 
But suffred that same dwarfe me to her doncreon drive. 
22 



494 • THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

** There did T finde mine onely faitlifiill freiid 

Id heavy plight and sad perplexitie ; 

Whereof I sorie, yet niyselfe did bend 

Him to recomfort with my companies 

Eut him the more agreey'd I found thereby: 

'For all his ioy, he said, in that distresse 

"Was mine and his JEmylias liber tie. 

^mylia well he lov'd, as I mote ghesse ; 

Yet greater love to me then her he did professe. 

" Bat I with better reason him aviz'd 

And shewed him how, through error and misthoiight 

Of our like persons eath to be disguiz'd, 

Or his exchange or freedom might be wrought. 

Whereto full loth was he, ne would for ought 

Consent that I, who stood all fearelesse free, 

Should wilfully be into thraldome brought. 

Till fortune did perforce it so decree : 

Yet, over-ruld at last, he did to me agree. 

'*' The morrow next, about the wonted howre. 

The dwarfe cald at the doore of Amy as 

To come forthwith unto his ladies bowre: 

Insteed of whom forth came I Placidas, 

And undiscerned forth with him did pas. 

There with great ioyance and with gladsome glee 

Of faire Pseana I received was. 

And oft imbrast, as if that I were hee, 

And with kind words accoyd, vowing great love to mee. 

*' Which I, that was not bent to former love. 
As was my friend that had her long refus'd. 
Did well accept, as well it did behove, 
And to the present neede it wisely usd. 
My former hardnesse first I faire excusd ; 
And, after, promist large amends to make. 
With such smooth termes her error I abusd 
To my friends good more then for mine owne sake, 
Por whose sole libertie I love and life did stake. 

** Thenceforth I found more favour at her hand; 

That to her dwarfe, which had me in his charge. 

She bad to lighten my too heavie band, 

And graunt more scope to nie to walke at large. 

So on a day, as by the flowrie marge 

Of a fresh streame I with that elfe did play, 

Finding no meanes how I might us enlarge, 

But if that dwarfe I could with me convay, 

I lightly snatcht him up and with me bore away. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. ' 405 

'* Thereat lie sliriekt aloud, that with his cry 

The tyrant selfe came forth with yellinp: bray. 

And me pursew'd ; but nathemore would I 

Forgoe the purchase of my gotten pray, 

But have perforce him hether brought away." 

Thus as they talked, loe 1 where nigli at hand 

Those ladies two, yet doubtful! through dismay. 

In presence came, desirous t' understand 

Ty dings of all which there had hapned on the landi 

Where soone as sad -^mylia did espie 

Her captive lovers friend, young Placidas ; 

All mindlesse of her wonted modestie 

Slie to him ran, and, him with streight embras 

Enfolding, said ; " And lives yet Amyas ?" 

** He lives," quoth he, " and his ^mylia loves." 

" Then lesse," said she, " by all the woe I pas, 

With which my weaker patience fortune proves : 

But what mishap thus long him fro myselfe removes ?" 

Then gan he all this storle to renew, 

And tell the course of his captivitie ; 

That her deare hart full deepely made to vew 

And sigh full sore, to heare the miserie 

In which so long he mercilesse did lie. 

Then, after many teares and sorrowes spent. 

She deare besought the prince of remedie : 

Who thereto did with readie will consent, 

And well perform'd ; as shall appeare by his event. 



CANTO IX. 

The Squire of low degree, releast, 

Poeana takes to wile : 
Britomart fightes with many knights | 

Prince Arthur stints their strife. 



Haud is the doubt, and difficult to deeme. 

When all three kinds of love together meet 

And doe dispart the hart with powre extreme, 

Whether shall weigh the balance downe; to weet^ 

The deare affection unto kindred sweet, 

Or raging fire of love to womankind, 

Or zeale of friends combynd with vertues meet. 

But of them all the band of vertuous mind, 

Me seemes, the gentle hart should most assured bind. 



496 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

For naturall alfection soone dotli cesse. 

And quenched is with Cupids greater flame ; 

33ut faithful! friendship doth them both suppresse. 

And them with maystring disciphne doth tame. 

Through thoughts aspyring to eternall fame. 

Por as the soule doth rule the earthly masse.. 

And all the service of the bodie frame ; 

So love of soule doth love of bodie passe, 

"No lesse then perfect gold surmounts the meanest brasses 

All which, who list by tryall to assay, 

Shall in this storie find approved plaine ; 

In which these squires true friendship more did sway 

Then either care of parents could refraine, 

Or love of fairest ladie could constraine. 

For though Pseana were as faire as morne. 

Yet did this trustie squire with proud disdaine 

For his friends sake her offred favours scorne, 

And she herselfe her syre of whom she was yborne. 

Kow, after tliat Prince Arthur graunted had 

To yeeld strong succour to that gentle swayne. 

Who now long time had lyen in prison sad ; 

He gan advise how best he mote darrayne 

That enterprize, for greatest glories gayne. 

That headlesse tyrants tronke he reard from ground. 

And, having ympt the head to it agayne, 

Upon liis usuall beast it firmely bound, 

And made it so to ride as it alive was found. 

Then did he take that chased squire, and layd 

Before the ryder, as he captive were ; 

And made his dwarfe, though with unwilling ayd. 

To guide the beast that did his maister beare, 

Till to his Castle they approched neare : 

Whom when the watch, that kept continuall ward. 

Saw cumming home, all voide of doubtfull feare 

He, running downe, the gate to him unbard ; 

Whom straight the Prince ensuing in together far'd. 

There did he find in her delitious boure 

The faire Pseana playing on a rote, 

Complayning of her cruell paramoure. 

And singing all her sorrow to the note, 

As she had learned readily by rote ; 

That with the sweetnesse of her rare delight 

The Prince half rapt began on her to dote; 

Till, better him bethinking of the right. 

He her unwares attacht, and captive held by miglit. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 497 

Wlience being forth produced, when she perceived 
Her owne deare sire, she cald to him for aide : 
But when of him no aunswere she received. 
But saw him sencelesse by the squire upstaide. 
She weened well that then she was betraide : 
Then gan she loudly cry, and weepe, and waile. 
And that same squire of treason to upbraide : 
But all in vaine ; her plaints might not prevaile ; 
Ne none there was to reskue her, ne none to baile. 

Then tooke he that same dwarfe and him compeld 

To open unto him the prison dore, ^ 

And forth to bring those thrals which there he held. 

Thence forth were brought to liim above a score 

Of knights and squires to him unknowne afore : 

All which he did from bitter bondage free, 

And unto former liberty restore. 

Amongst the rest that squire of low degree 

Came forth full weake and wan, not like himselfe to bee. 

"WTiom soone as faire ^mylia beheld 

And Placidas, they both unto him ran, 

And him embracing fast betwixt them held. 

Striving to comfort him all that they can. 

And kissing oft his visage pale and wan : 

^J hat faire Pseana, them beholding both, 

Gan both envy, and bitterly to ban ; 

Through iealous passion weeping inly wroth, 

To see the sight perforce that both her eyes were loth. 

But when awhile they had together beene, 

And diversly conferred of their case, 

She, though full oft she both of them had scene 

Asunder, yet not ever in one place, 

Began to doubt, when she them saw embrace. 

Which w^s the captive squire she lov'd so deare, 

J^eceived through great likenesse of their face : 

For they so like in person did appeare. 

That she uneath discerned whether whether weare. 

And eke the prince whenas he them avizcd. 

Their like resemblaunce much admired there. 

And mazd how nature had so well disguized, 

Her worke, aiM counterfet herselfe so nere. 

As if that by one patterne scene somewhere 

She had them made a paragone to be ; 

Or whether it through skill or crrour were. 

Thus gazing long at them much wondred Ir-^; 

So did the other knights and squires which him did see. 



493 THE FAEEIE QXJEENE, 

Then gan tliey ransacke tliat saine castle strong:, 
la which he found great store of hoorded threasure, 
The which that tyrant gathered had by wrong 
And tortious powre, without respect or measure. 
Upon all which the Briton prince made seasure, 
And afterwards continu'd there a while 
To rest himselfe, and solace in soft pleasure 
Those weaker ladies after weary toile ; 
To whom he did divide part of his purchast spoil©. 

And, for more ioy, that captive lady faire, 
The faire Pseana, he enlarged free, 
And by the rest did set in sumptuous chaire 
To feast and frolHcke ; nathemore would she 
Shew gladsome countenaunce nor pleasaunt glee; 
But grieved was for losse both of her sire, 
And eke of lordship with both land and fee ; 
But most she touched was with griefe entire 
For losse of her new love, the hope of her desire. 

But her the prince, through his well- wonted grace. 
To better termes of myldnesse did entreat 
From that fowle rudenesse which did her deface; 
And that same bitter cor'sive, which did eat 
Her tender heart and made refraine from meat, 
He with good thewes and speaches well applyde 
Did mollifie, and calme her raging heat : 
For though she were most faire, and goodly dyde, 
Yet she it all did mar with cruelty and pride. 

And, for to shut up all in friendly love, 

Sith love was first the ground of all her griefe, 

That trusty squire he wisely well did move 

Not to despise that dame which lov*d him Hefe, 

Till he had made of her some better priefe ; 

But to accept her to his wedded wife : • 

Thereto he offred for to make him chiefe 

Of all her land and lordship during life : 

He yeelded, and her tooke ; so stinted all their strife. 

From that day forth in peace and ioyous blis 

They liv'd together long without debate ; 

ISTe private iarre, ne spite of enemis, ^ 

Could shake the safe assurauncc of their state 

And she, whom nature did so faire create 

That she mote match the fairest of her daies, 

Yet with lewd loves and lust intemperate 

Had it defaste, thenceforth reformed her waies, [praise. 

That all men much admyrde her change, and spake her 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 499 

Thus wlien tlie prince had perfectly compylde 
These pairos of friends in peace and setled rest ; 
Himselfe, whose minde did travell as vidth chylde 
Of his old love conceav'd in secret brest, 
Besolved to pursue his former guest; 
And, taking leave of all, with him did bearo 
Faire Amoret, whom fortune by bequest 
Had left in his protection whileare, 
Exchanged out of one into another feare, 

Feare of her safety did her not constraine ; 

For well she wist now in a mighty hond 

Her person, late in perill, did remaine, 

Who able was all daungers to withstond: 

But now in feare of shame she more did stond. 

Seeing herselfe all soly succourlesse, 

Left in the victors powre, like vassall bond ; 

Whose will her weaknesse could no way represse. 

In case his burning lust should breake into excess©. 

But cause of feare sure had she none at all 

Of him, who goodly learned had of yore 

The course of loose affection to forstall. 

And lawlesse lust to rule with reasons lore; 

That, all the while he by his side her bore. 

She was as safe as in a sanctuary. 

Thus many miles they two together wore. 

To seeke their loves dispersed diversly ; 

Yet neither shewed to other" their hearts privity. 

At length they came whereas a troupe of knights 
They saw together skirmishing, as seemed: 
Ske they were all, all full of fell despight. 
But foure of them the battell best beseemed. 
That which of them was best mote not be deemed. 
These foure were they from whom false Florimel 
By Braggadochio lately was redeemed ; 
To weet, sterne Druon, and lewd Claribell, 
Love-lavish Blandamour, and lustfuU Paridell. 

Druons delight was all in single life, 

And unto ladies love would lend no leasure : 

The more was Claribell enraged rife 

With fervent flames and loved out of measure : 

So eke lov'd Blandamour, but yet at pleasure 

Would change his liking, and new lemans proves 

But Paridell of love did make no threasure. 

But lusted after all that him did move : 

So diversly these foure disposed were to love. 



500 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

But those two other, wliicli beside them stoocle. 

Were Britomart and gentle Scudamour ; 

Who all the while beheld their wrathful! moodo, 

And wondred at their implacable stoure, 

Whose like they never saw till that same houre: 

So dreadfull strokes each did at other drive, 

And laid on load with all their might and powre. 

As if that every dint the ghost would rive 

Out of their wretched corses, and their hves deprive. 

As when Dan .^olus, in great displeasure 
For losse of his deare love by ISTeptune hent. 
Sends forth the winds out of his hidden threasuro 
Upon the sea to wreake his full intent ; 
They, breaking forth with rude unruliment 
Prom all foure partes of heaven, doe rage full sore. 
And tosse the deepes, and teare the firmament. 
And all the world confound with wide uprore ; 
As if instead thereof they Chaos would restore. 

Cause of their discord and so fell debate ^ 

Was for the love of that same snowy maid, 

Whome they had lost in turneyment of late ; 

And, seeking long to weet which way she straid. 

Met here together; where, through lewd upbraide 

Of Ate and Duessa, they fell out ; 

And each one taking part in others aide 

This cruell conflict raised thereabout, 

Whose dangerous successe depended yet in doubt : 

Por sometimes Paridell and Blandamour 
The better had, and bet the others backe ; 
Eftsoones the others did the field recoure. 
And on their foes did worke full cruell wracke : 
Yet neither would their fiend-like fury slacke. 
But evermore their malice did augment; 
Till that uneath they forced were, for lacke 
Of breath, their raging rigour to relent, 
And rest themselves for to recover spirits spent. 

There gan they change their sides, and new parts take ; 

Por Paridell did take to Druons side. 

For old despight which now forth newly brake 

Gainst Blandamour, whom alwaies he envide : 

And Blandamour to Claribell relide : 

So all afresh gan former fight renew. 

As when two barkes, this caried with the tide. 

That with the wind, contrary courses sew. 

If wind and tide doe change, their courses change anew. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 501 

Therjcefortli tliey mucli more furiously gan fare. 

As if but then the battell had begonne ; 

"Ne helmets bright ne hawberks strong did spare, 

That through the clifts the vermeil bloud out sponno. 

And all adowne their riven sides did ronne. 

Such mortall malice wonder was to see 

In friends profest, and so great outrage donne : 

33ut sooth is said, and tride in each degree, 

Faird friends wlieyi they fall out most cruell fomen hee. 

Thus they long while continued in fight ; 

Till Scudamour and that same Briton maide 

33y fortune in that place did chance to light; 

Whom soone as they with wrathfull eie bewraide^ 

They gan remember of the fowle upbraide, 

The which that Britonesse had to them donne 

In that late turney for the snowy maide ; 

Where she had them both shamefully fordonne. 

And eke the famous prize of beauty from them wonne, 

Eftsoones all burning with a fresh desire 

Of fell revenge, in their malicious mood 

They from themselves gan turne their furious ire. 

And cruell blades yet steeming with whot bloud 

Against those two let drive, as they were wood : 

Who wondring much at that so sodaine fit, 

Yet nought dismayd, them stoutly well withstood j 

Ne yeelded foote, ne once abacke did flit, 

But, being doubly smitten, likewise doubly smit. 

The warlike dame was on her part assaid 

Of Claribell and Blandamour attone; 

And Paridell and Druon fiercely laid 

At Scudamour, both his professed fone : 

Four charged two, and two surcharged one ; 

Yet did those two themselves so bravely beare, 

That til' other litle gained by the lone, 

But with their owne repayed duely weare, 

And usury withall : such gaine was gotten deare. 

Full oftentimes did Britomart assay 
To speake to them, and some emparlance move; 
But they for nought their cruell hands would stay, 
!Ne lend an eare to ought that might behove. 
As when an eager mastifle once doth prove 
The tast of bloud of some engored beast, 
No words may rate, nor rigour him remove 
From greedy hold of that his blouddy feast : 
So, litle did they hearken to her sweet beheast. 



502 THE FAEEIE QUEENE, 

Whom when the Briton prince afarre beheld 

With ods of so unequall match opprest, 

His mighty heart with indignation sweld. 

And inward grudge fild his heroicke brest: 

Eftsoones himselfe he to their aide addrest, 

And thrusting fierce into the thickest preace 

Divided them, however loth to rest ; 

And would them faine from batteU to surceasse, 

With gentle words perswading them to friendly pcaoo. 

But they so farre from peace or patience were, 

That all at once at him gan fiercely flie. 

And lay on load, as they him downe would bearo : 

Like to a storm e which hovers under skie, 

Long here and there and round about doth stie, 

At length breakes downe in raine, and haile, and sleety 

Pirst from one coast, till nought thereof be drie ; 

And then another, till that likewise fleet : ^ 

And so from side to side till all the world it weet. 

But now their forces greatly were decayd. 
The prince yet being fresh untouch t afore ;^ 
Who them with speaches milde gan first disswado 
From such foule outrage, and them long forbore; 
Till, seeing them through sufirance hartned more, 
Himselfe he bent their furies to abate, 
And layd at them so sharpely and so sore. 
That shortly them compelled to retrate, 
And being brought in daunger to relent too late. 

But now his courage being throughly fired, 

He ment to make them know their follies prise, 

Had not those two him instantly desired 

T' asswage his wrath, and pardon their mesprise : 

At whose request he gan himselfe advise 

To stay his hand, and of a truce t6 treat 

In milder tearmes, as list them^ to devise ; 

Mongst which the cause of their so cruell heat 

He did them aske ; who all that passed gan repeat 5 

And told at large how that same errant knight, 

To weet, faire Britomart, them late had foyled 

In open turney, and by wrongfull fight 

Both of their publicke praise had them despoyled. 

And also of their private loves beguyled; 

Of two full hard to read the harder theft. 

But she that wrongfull challenge soone assoyled. 

And shew'd that she had not that lady reft, 

(As they suppos'd,) but her had to her liking left 



THU rAEBIE QUEENE. 503 

To whom tlie prince tlius goodly well replied j 
** Certes, sir knight, ye seemen muck to blame 
To rip up wrong that battell once hath tried ; 
Wherein the honor both of armes ye shame. 
And eke the love of ladies foule defame ; 
To whom the world this franchise ever yeelded. 
That of their loves choise they might freedom clame, 
And in that right should by all knights be shielded : 
Gainst which, me seemes, this war ye wrongfully havo 
wielded." 

" And yet,*' quoth she, "a greater wrong remaines : 

For I thereby my former love have lost ; 

Whom seeking ever since with endlesse paines 

Hath me much sorrow and much travell cost : 

Aye me, to see that gentle maide so tost V\ 

But Scudamour then sighing deepe thus saide ; 

** Certes her losse ought me to sorrow most, 

Whose right she is, wherever she be straide, 

Through many perils wonne, and many fortunes waide : 

** For from the first that T her love profest. 
Unto this houre, this present lucklesse howre, 
I never ioyed happinesse nor rest ; 
But thus tormoild, from one to other stowre 
I wast my life, and doe my dales devowre 
In wretched anguishe and incessant woe. 
Passing the measure of my feeble powre ; 
That, living thus a wretch and loving so, 
I neither can my love ne yet my life forgo." 

Then good Sir Claribell him thus bespake; 

** Now were it not. Sir Scudamour, to you 

DislikefuU paine so sad a taske to take. 

Mote me entreat you, sith this gentle crew 

Is now so well accorded all anew. 

That, as we ride together on our way. 

Ye will recount to us in order dew 

All that adventure which ye did assay 

For that faire ladies love : past perils well apay.** 

So gan the rest him likewise to require : 

But Britomart did him importune hard 

To take on him that paine ; whose great desire 

He glad to satisfie, himselfe prepar'd 

To tell through what misfortune he had far d 

In that atcliievement, as to him befell. 

And all those daungers unto them declar'd ; 

Which sith they cannot in this canto well 

Comprised be, I will them in another tell. 



604 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 



CANTO X. 

Scudamour doth his conquest tell 

Of vertuous Amoret : 
Great Venus temple is describ'd ; 

And lovers life forth set. 

'* True lie it said, whatever man it sayd. 

That love with gall and hony doth abound: 

But if the one be with the other wayd, 

For every dram of hony, therein found, 

A pound of gall doth over it redound : 

That I too true by triall have approved ; 

!For since the day that first with deadly wound 

My heart was launcht, and learned to have loved, 

I never ioyed howre, but still with care was moved. 

** And yet such grace is given them from above. 

That all the cares and evill which they meet 

May nought at all their setled mindes remove, 

But seeme gainst common sence to them most sweet; 

As hosting in their martyrdome unmeet. 

So all that ever yet I have endured 

I count as naught, and tread downe under feet. 

Since of my love at length I rest assured. 

That to disloyalty she will not be allured. 

" Long were to tell the travell and long toile. 
Through which this shield of Love I late have wonne. 
And purchased this peerlesse beauties spoile. 
That harder may be ended, then begonne : 
But since ye so desire, your will be donne. 
Then hearke, ye gentle knights and ladies free. 
My hard mishaps, that ye may learne to shonne ; 
For though sweet love to conquer glorious bee. 
Yet is the paine thereof much greater then the fee, 

*' What time the fame of this renowmed prise 
Plew first abroad, and all mens eares possest ; 
I, having armes then taken, gan aviso 
To winne me honour by some noble gest, 
And purchase me some place amongst the best. 
I boldly thought, (so young mens thoughts are bold,) 
That this same brave emprize for me did rest, 
And that both shield and she whom I behold 
Might be my lucky lot ; sith all by lot we hold. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 605 

*' So on tliat hard adventure forth I went. 
And to the place of perill shortly came : 
That was a temple faire and auncient, 
Which of great mother Venus bare the name. 
And farre renowmed through exceeding fame ; 
Much more then that which was in Paphos built. 
Or that in Cyprus, both long since this same, 
Though all the pillours of the one were guilt. 
And all the others pavement were with yvory spilfc: 

"And it was seated in an island strong, 

Abounding all with delices most rare, 

And wali'd by nature gainst invaders wrong. 

That none mote have accesse, nor inward fare. 

But by one way that passage did prepare. 

It was a bridge ybuilt in goodly wize 

With curious corbes and pendants graven faire. 

And arched all with porches did arize 

On stately pillours fram'd after the Doricke guiz©: 

" And for defence thereof on th' other end 

There reared was a castle faire and strong. 

That warded all which in or out did wend. 

And flancked both the bridges sides along, 

Gainst all that would it faine to force or wrong: 

And therein wonned twenty valiant knights ; 

All twenty tride in warres experience long ; 

Whose office was against all manner wights 

By all meanes to maintaine that castels ancient rights. 

" Before that castle was an open plaine, 

And in the midst thereof a pillar placed ; 

On which this shield, of many sought in vaine, 

The shield of love, whose guerdon he hath graced. 

Was hangd on high with golden ribbands laced; 

And in the marble stone was written this. 

With golden letters goodly well enchaced ; 

^Blessed the man that well can use this Mis: 

Whose ever be the shield, /aire Amoret he his, 

'* Which when I red, my heart did inly earne. 

And pant with hope of that adventures hap : 

"No stayed further newes thereof to learne, 

But with my speare upon the shield did rap, 

That all the castle ringed with the clap. 

Strcii>ht forth issewd a knight all arm'd to proofe. 

And bravely mounted to his most mishap : 

Who, staying nought to question from nloofo, 

llan fierce at me, that fire glaunst irom his horses hoofe. 



508 THE PAEBIE QTTEENB. 

** Whom toldly I encountred (as I could) 

And by good fortune shortly him unseated. 

Eftsoones putsprung two more of equall mould 

But I them both with equall hap defeated : 

So all the twenty I likewise entreated. 

And left them groning there upon the plaine. 

Then, preacing to the pillour, I repeated 

The read thereof for guerdon of my paine, 

And, taking downe the shield, with me did it retaine. 

" So forth without impediment I past. 

Till to the bridges utter gate I came ; ^ 

The wliich I found sure lockt and chained fast. 

I knockt, but no man answred me by name ; 

I cald, but no man answred to my clame : 

Yet I perse ver'd still to knocke and call ; 

Till at the last I spide within the same 

Where one stood peeping through a crevis small. 

To whom I cald aloud, halfe angry therewithaU. 

" That was to weet the porter of the place. 

Unto whose trust the charge thereof was lent : 

His name was Doubt, that had a double face, 

Th' one forward looking, th' other backeward bent. 

Therein resembling lanus auncient 

Which hath in charge the ingate of the yeare : 

And evermore his eyes about him went. 

As if some proved perill he did feare. 

Or did misdoubt some ill whose cause did not appcare, 

" On th' one side he, on th' other sate Delay, 
Behinde the gate, that none her might espy ; 
Whose manner was, all passengers to stay 
And entertaine with her occasions sly ; 
Through which some lost great hope unheedily. 
Which never they recover might againe ; 
And others, quite excluded forth, did ly 
Long languishing there in unpittied paine. 
And seeking often entraunce afterwards in vaino. 

** Me whenas he had privily espide 

Bearing the shield which I had conquerd late. 

He kend it streight, and to me opened wide : 

So in I past, and streight he closd the gate. 

But being in. Delay in close awaite 

Caught hold on me, and thought my steps to stay, 

Feigning full many a fond excuse to prate. 

And time to steale, the threasure of mans day. 

Whose smallest minute lost no riches render may. 



THE FAERIE QXTEENE. 507 

'* But by no tneanes my way I would forslow 

For ought that ever she could doe or say ; 

But from my lofty steede dismounting low 

Past forth on foote, beholding all the way 

The goodly workes, and stones of rich assay, 

Cast into sundry shapes by wondrous skill, 

That like on earth no where I recken may ; 

And underneath, the river rolling still 

With murmure soft, that seem'd to serve the workmans wiU. 

" Thence forth I passed to the second gate. 
The Gate of Good Pesert, whose goodly pride 
And costly frame were long here to relate : 
The same to all stoode alwaies open wide ; 
But in the porch did evermore abide 
An hideous giant, dreadful! to behold, ^ 
That stopt the entraunce with his spacious stride. 
And with the terrour of his countenance bold 
Full many did affray, that else faine enter would : 

" His name was Daunger, dreaded over all ; 
Who day and night did watch and duely ward 
From fearefull cowards entrance to forstall 
And faint-heart-fooles, whom shew of periU hard 
Could terrific from fortunes faire adward : 
For oftentimes faint hearts, at first espiall 
Of his grim face, were from approaching scard: 
Unworthy they of grace, whom one deniall 
Excludes from fairest hope withouten further trialL 

"Yet many doughty warriours often tride 
In greater perils to be stout and bold. 
Durst not the sternnesse of his looke abide ; 
But, soone as they his countenance did behold, 
Began to faint, and feele their corage cold. 
Againe, some other, that in hard assaies 
Were cowards knowne, and litle count did hold. 
Either through gifts, or guile, or such like waies, 
Crept in by stouping low, or stealing of the kaies. 

"But I, though meanest man of many moe. 
Yet much disdaining unto him to lout. 
Or creepe betweene his legs, so in to goe, 
Besolv'd him to assault with manhood stout. 
And either beat him in or drive him out. 
Eftsoones, advauncing that enchaunted shield. 
With all my might I gan to lay about : 
Which when he saw, the glaive which he did wield 
He gan forthwith t* avale, and way unto mo yield. 



508 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

** So, as I entred, I did backeward loolre. 

For feare of liarme that miglit lie hidden there > 

And loe ! his hindparts, whereof heed I tooko. 

Much more deformed, fearfall, ugly were, 

Then all his former parts did earst appere : 

Por hatred, murther, treason, and despight. 

With many moe lay in ambiishment there, 

Awaytiog to entrap the warelesse wight 

Which did not them prevent with vigilant foresight. 

" Tims having past all perill, I was come 

Within the compasse of that islands space ; 

The which did seeme, unto my simple doomo. 

The onely pleasant and delightfuU place 

That ever troden was of footings trace : 

For all that nature by her mother-wit 

Could frame in earth, and forme of substance base. 

Was there ; and all that nature did omit, 

Art, playing second natures part, supplyed it. 

" jSTo tree, that is of count, in greenewood growes, 

Prom lowest iuniper to ceder tall ; 

iNo fiowre in field, that daintie odour throwes. 

And deckes his branch with blossomes over all. 

But there was planted, or grew naturall : 

ISTor sense of man so coy and curious nice, 

But there mote find to please itselfe withall; 

"Nov hart could wish for any queint device, 

But there it present was, and did fraile sense entice, 

" In such luxurious plentie of all pleasure, 

It seem'd a second paradise I ghesse. 

So lavishly enricht with natures threasure, 

That if the happie soules, which doe possess© 

Th' Ely si an fields and iive in lasting blesse. 

Should happen this with living eye to see. 

They soone would loath their lesser happinesse. 

And wish to life return'd againe to bee. 

That in this ioyous place they mote have ioyance free, 

*' Fresh shadowes, fit to shroud from sunny ray ; 
Paire lawnds, to take the sunne in season dew; 
Sweet springs, in which a thousand nymphs did play 5 
Soft-rombling brookes, that gentle slomber drew; 
High-reared mounts, the lands about to view ; 
Low-looking dales, disloignd from common gaze; 
Delightful! bowrcs, to solace lovers trew ; 
Palse labyrinthes, fond runners eyes to daze ; 
All which by nature made did nature selfe amaze. 



THE FAEPwIE QTJEENE. 509 

*' A-Tid all without were wallces and alleyes diglit 
With divers trees enrau^'d in even rankes ; 
And here and there were pleasant arbors pieht, 
And shadie seates, and sundry flowring bankes 
To sit and rest the walkers wearie shankes : 
And therein thousand payres of lovers walkt, 
Praj^sing their god, and yeelding him great thankes, 
]S'e ever ought but of their true loves talkt, 
"Ne ever for rebuke or blame of any balkt. 

** All these together by themselves did sport 

Their spotlesse pleasures and sweet loves content. 

But, farre away from these another sort 

Oflovers lincked in true harts consent ; 

Which loved not as these for like intent. 

But on chaste vertue grounded their desire, 

Farre from all fraud or fayned blandishment; 

Which, in their spirits kindling zealous fire. 

Brave thoughts and noble deedes did evermore aspire. 

" Such were great Hercules, and Hyllus deare: 

Trew Jonathan, and Da;vid trustie tryde; 

Stout Theseus, and Pirithous his feare; 

Pylades, and Orestes by his syde; 

Myld Titus, and Gesippus without pryde ; 

Damon and Pythias, whom death could not sever: 

All these, and all that ever had bene tyde 

In bands of friendship, there did live for ever; 

Whose lives although decay'd, j^et loves decayed never. 

"Which whenas I, that never tasted blis 

Nor hap^)y howre, beheld with gazefull eye, 

I thought there was none other heaven then this ; 

And gan their endlesse happinesse envye. 

That being free from feare and gealosye 

Might frank ely there their loves desire possesse; 

Whilest I, through pains and perlous ieopardic. 

Was forst to seeke my lifes deare patronesse : [trc^se. 

Much dearer be the things which come through hard dis* 

*' Yet all those sights, and all that else I saw, 
Might not my steps withhold but that forthright 
Unto that purpose! place I did me draw. 
Whereas my love was lodged day and night. 
The temple of great Venus, that is higlit 
Tiie queene of beautie, and of love the mother. 
There worshipped of every living wight; 
VVhose goodly workmanship farre past all other 
That ever were on earth, all were they set togetlier. 



510 THE FAEEIE QTJEE2TE. 

"JN'ot tliat same famous temple of Diane, 

Whose liiglit all Epliesus did oversee, 

And which all Asia sought with vowes prophane. 

One of the world's seven wonders sayd to bee. 

Might match with this by many a degree ; 

'Nor that, which that wise king of lurie framed 

With endlesse cost to be th' Almighties see ; 

]Nor all, that else through all the world is named 

To aill the heathen gods, might hke to this be clamed. 

" I, much admyring that so goodly frame. 

Unto the porch approcht, which open stood; 

But therein sate an amiable dame. 

That seem'd to be of very sober mood, 

And in her semblant shew'd great womanhood : 

Strange was her tyre ; for on her head a crowne 

She wore, much like unto a Danisk hood, 

Poudred with perle and stone ; and all her gowne 

Enwoven was with gold, that raught full low adowne, 

" On either side of her two young men stood, 
Both strongly arm'd, as fearing one another ; 
Yet were they brethren both of halfe the blood, 
Begotten by two fathers of one mother, 
Though of contrarie natures each to other : 
The one of them hight Love, the other Hate ; 
Hate was the elder. Love the younger brother ; 
Yet was the younger stronger in his state 
Then th' elder, and him maystred still in all debate. 

" Nathlesse that dame so well them tempred both. 

That she them forced hand to ioyne in hand, 

Albe that Hatred was thereto full loth. 

And turn'd his face away, as he did stand. 

Unwilling to behold that lovely band : 

Yet she was of such grace and vertuous mighty 

That her commaundment he could not withstand, 

But bit his lip for felonous despight. 

And gnasht his yron tuskes at that displeasing sight. 

" Concord she cleeped was in common reed. 
Mother of blessed Peace and Friendship trew ; 
They both her twins, both borne of heavenly seed. 
And she herselfe likewise divinely grew ; ^ 
The which right well her workes divine did shew : 
For strength and wealth and happinesse she lends. 
And strife and warre and anger does subdew; 
Of little much, of foes she maketh frends, 
And to afflicted minds sweet rest and quiet sends^ 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 511 

" By her tlie heaven is in liis course contained, 
And all the world in state unmoved stands. 
As their Almightie Maker first ordained, 
And bound them with inviolable bands; 
Else would the waters overflow the lands, 
And fire devoure the ayre, and hell them quiglit; 
33ut that she holds them with her blessed hands. 
She is the nourse of pleasure and delight, 
And unto Venus grace the gate doth open right. 

" By her I entring half dismayed was ; 
But she in gentle wise me entertayned. 
And twixt herselfe and Love did let me pas ; 
But Hatred would my entrance have restrayned. 
And with his club me threatned to have brayned. 
Had not the ladie with her powrefull speach 
Him from his wicked will uneath refraj^ned: 
And th* other eke his malice did empeach. 
Till I was throughly past the peril! of his reach. 

" Into the inmost temple thus I came. 

Which fuming all with frankensence I found 

And odours rising from the altars flame. 

Upon an hundred marble pillors round 

The roof up high was reared from the ground, 

All deckt with crownes, and chaynes, and girlands gay. 

And thousand pretious gifts worth many a pound, 

The which sad lovers for their vowes did pay ; [May. 

And all the ground was strow'd with jGlovvres as fresh as 

"An hundred altars round about were set. 

All flaming with their sacrifices fire, 

Tiiat with the steme thereof the temple swet. 

Which rould in clouds to heaven did aspire. 

And in them bore true lovers vowes entire : 

And eke an hundred brasen caudrons bright 

To bath in ioy and amorous desire, 

Every of which was to a damzell hight ; 

Eor all the priests were damzels in soft linnen dight. 

"Bight in the midst the goddesse selfe did stand 
Upon an altar of some costly masse, 
Whose substance was uneath to understand: 
Eor neither pretious stone, nor durefull brasse, 
!Nor shining gold, nor mouldring clay it was ; 
But much more rare and pretious to esteeme. 
Pure in aspect, and like to christall glasse ; 
Yet glasse was not, if one did rightly deeme; 
But, being faire and brickie, likest glasse did seemo 



812 THE FAERIE QI7EENE. 

" But it in sliape and beautie did excell 

All other icloles which the heath'en adore, 

Farre passing that, which by surpassing skill 

Phidias did make in Paphos isle of yore, 

With which that wretched Greeke, that life forlore. 

Did fall in love: yet this much fairer shined, 

But covered with a slender veile afore: 

And both her feete and legs together twyned 

Were with a snake, whose head and tail were fast combyned. 

" The cause why she was covered with a vele 
Was hard to know, for that her priests the samo 
Prom peoples knowledge labour'd to concele : 
But sooth it was not sure for womanish shame, 
ISTor any blemish, which the worke mote blame ; 
But for (they say) she hath both kinds in one. 
Both male and female, both under one name : 
She syre and mother is herselfe alone. 
Begets and eke conceives, ne needeth other none. 

"And all about her necke and shoulders flew 
A flocke of little loves, and sports, and ioyes. 
With nimble wings of gold and purple hew ; 
Whose shapes seem'd not like to terrestriall boyc3. 
But like to angels playing heavenly toyes ; 
The whilest their eldest brother was away, 
Cupid their eldest brother: he enioyes 
The wide kingdome of love with lordly sway. 
And to his law compels all creatures to obay. 

" And all about her altar scattered lay 

Great sorts of lovers piteously complayning. 

Some of their losse, some of their loves delay. 

Some of their pride, some paragons disdaining. 

Some fearing fraud, some fraudulently fayning. 

As every one had cause of good or ill. 

Amongst the rest some one, tlirough Loves constrayning 

Tormented sore, could not conteine it still, 

But thus brake forth, that all the temple it did fill ; 

" * Great Venus ! queene of beautie and of grace. 

The ioy of gods and men, that under skie 

Doest fayrest shine, and most adorne thy place; 

That with thy smyliug looke doest pacifie 

The raging seas, and makst the storm cs to flie ; 

Thee, goddesse, thee the winds, the clouds doe feare; 

And, TN'hen thou spredst thy mantle forth on hie. 

The waters play, and pleasant lands appcare. 

And heavens laugh, and al the world shews ioyous cheare. 



THE FAERIE QTJEENE. 613 

" ' Then doth the dsedale earth throw forth to theo 

Out of her fruitfall lap aboundant flowres ; 

And then all living wights, soone as they see 

The spring breake forth out of his lusty bowrcs. 

They all doe learne to play the paramours: 

First doe the merry birds, thy prety pages. 

Privily pricked with thy lustfull powres, 

Chirpe loud to thee out of their leavy cages, 

And thee their mother call to coole their kindly rages. 

" * Then doe the salvage beasts begin to play 
Their pleasant friskes, and loath their wonted food; 
The lyons rore ; the tygers loudly bray ; 
The raging buls rebellow through the wood, 
And breaking forth dare tempt the deepest flood 
To come where thou doest draw them with desire i 
So all things else, that nourish vitall blood, 
Soone as with fury thou doest them inspire, 
In generation seeke to quench their inward lire. 

" ' So all the world by thee at first was made. 
And dayly yet thou doest the same repayre : 
JS'e ought on earth that merry is and glad, 
Ke ought on earth that lovely is and fay re, 
But thou the same for pleasure didst prepayre: 
Thou art the root of all that ioyous is : 
Great god of men and women, queene of th' ayre, 
Mother of laughter, and wel-spring of bliss e, 

graunt that of my love at last I may not misse T 

** So did he say: but I with murmure soft, 
That none might heare the sorrow of my hart, 
Yet inly groning deepe and sighing oft. 
Besought her to graunt ease unto my smart. 
And to my wound her gratious help impart. 
"Whilest thus I spake, behold ! with happy eye 

1 spyde where at the idoles feet apart 
A bevie of fayre damzels close did lye, 

Wayting whenas the antheme should be sung on liye. 

*' The first of them did seeme of ryper yeares 

And graver countenance then all the rest : 

Yet all the rest were eke her equall peares. 

Yet unto her obayed all the best : 

Her name was Womanhood ; that she exprest 

By her sad semblant and demeanure wyse; 

For stedfast still her eyes did fixed rest, 

Ne rov'd at randon, after gazers guyse, 

Whose luring baytes oftimes doe heedlesse harts entyse. 



614 THE FAEEIE QXTEENE. 

*' And next to lier sate goodly Sliamefastnesse, 
Ne ever durst her eyes from ground upreare, 
Ne ever once did looke up from her desse, 
As if some blame of evill she did feare, 
That in her cheekes made roses oft appeare : 
, And her against sweet Cheerfulnesse was placed. 
Whose eyes, like twinkling stars in evening cleare, 
"Were deckt with smyles that all sad humors chaced, 
And darted forth delights the which her goodly graced. 

'And next to her sate sober Modestie, 
Holding her hand upon her gentle hart; 
And her against sate comely CAirtesie, 
That unto every person knew her part ; 
And her before was seated overthwart 
Soft Silence, and submisse Obedience, 
Both linckt together never to dispart ; 
33oth gifts of Grod not gotten but from thence; 
Both girlonds of his saints against their foes offence. 

" Thus sate they all around in seemely rate: 

And in the midst of them a goodly mayd 

(Even in the lap of ^omanhood) there sate. 

The which was all in hlly white arayd. 

With silver streames amongst the linnen strayd ; 

Like to the Morne, when first her shyning face 

Hath to the gloomy world itself bewray'd : 

That same was fayrest Amoret in place, 

Shyning with beauties light and heavenly vertues grace 

'* Whome soone as I beheld, my hart gan throb 
And wade in doubt what best were to be donne: 
For sacrilege me seem'd the church to rob ; 
And folly seem'd to leave the thing undonne. 
With which so strong attempt I had begonne, 
Tho, shaking off all doubt and shamefast feare. 
Which ladies love I heard had never wonne 
Mongst men of worth, I to her stepped neare. 
And by the lilly hand her labour'd up to reare. 

" Thereat that formost matrone nie did blame. 
And sharpe rebuke for being over-bold ; 
Saying it was to knight unseemely shame. 
Upon a recluse virgin to lay hold. 
That unto Yenus services was sold. 
To whom I thus ; Nay, but it fitteth best 
For Cupids man with Venus mayd to holdj 
For ill your goddesse services are drest 
Ey virgins, and her sacrifices let to rest, . 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 615 

" Witli tliat my shield I fortli to her did show. 
Which all that while I closely had conceld ; 
On which when Cupid with his killinp: bow 
And cruell shafts emblazon d she beheld, 
At sight thereof she was with terror queld. 
And said no more : but I, which all that while 
The pledge of faith her hand engaged held, 
(Like warie hynd within the weedie soyle,) 
For no intreatie would forgoe so glorious spoylo. 

*' And evermore upon the goddesse face 

Mine eye was fixt, for feare of her offence; 

Whom when I saw with amiable grace 

To laugh on me, and favour my pretence, 

I was emboldned with more confidence ; 

And, nought for nicenesse no for envy sparing. 

In presence of them all forth led her thence. 

All looking on, and like astonisht staring, 

Yet to lay hand on her not one of all them daring. 

" She often prayd, and often me besought. 
Sometime with tender teares to let her goe, 
Sometime with witching smyles : but yet, for nought 
That ever she to me could say or doe. 
Could she her wished freedome fro me wooe ; 
But forth I led her through the temple gate, 
By which I hardly past with much adoe : 
But that same ladie, which me friended late 
In entrance, did me also friend in my retreate. 

" No lesse did Daunger threaten me with dread, 
Whenas he saw me, maugre all his powre. 
That glorious spoyle of Beautie with me lead. 
Then Cerberus, when Orpheus did recoure 
His leman from the Stygian princes boure. 
But evermore my shield did me defend 
Against the storme of every dreadfuU stoure : 
Thus safely with my love I thence did wend.** 
So ended he is tale -, where I this canto end. 



516 THE TAEEIB QTTEENE, 



CANTO XL 

Marinells former wound is heald; 

He comes to Proteus hall. 
Where Thames doth the Medway wedd. 

And feasts the sea-gods all. 

But all ! for pittie that I liave tlius long 

Left a fayre ladie lariguishiDg in payne ! 

Now well away ! that I Lave doen such wrong, 

To let faire Plorimell in bands remayne, 

In bands of love, and in sad thraldomes chayne ; 

!From which nnlesse some heavenly power her free 

By miracle, not yet appearing playne. 

She lenger yet is like captiv'd to bee ; 

That even to thinke thereof it inly pitties mee. 

Here neede you to remember, how erewhile 
Unlovely Proteus, missing to his mind 
That virgins love to win by wit or wile, 
Her threw into a dongeon deepe and blind. 
And there in chaynes her cruelly bid bind, 
In hope therebj^ her to his bent to draw : 
For, when as neither gifts nor graces kind 
Her constant mind could move at all he saw. 
He thought her to compell by crueltie and awe. 

Heepe in the bottome of an huge great rocke 
The dongeon was, in which her bound he left. 
That neither yron barres, nor brasen locke, 
Hid neede to gard from force or secret theft 
Of all her lovers which would her have reft : 
For wall'd it was with waves, which rag'd and ror'd 
As they the cliffe in peeces would have cleft ; 
Besides, ten thousand monsters foule abhor'd 
Hid waite about it, gaping griesly, all begor'd. 

And in the midst thereof did Horror dwell. 

And Harknesse dredd that never viewed day. 

Like to the balefull house of lowest hell, 

In which old Styx her aged bones alway 

(Old Styx the grandame of the gods) doth lay. 

There did this lucklesse mayd seven months abide, 

Ne ever evening saw, ne mornings ray, 

]N"e ever from the day the night descride. 

But thought it aU one night, that did no houres divide. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. ol7 

And all this was for love of Marinell, 

Who her despysd (ah ! who would her despyse !) 

And wemens love did from his hart expell. 

And all those ioyes that weake mankind entys©, 

Nathlesse his pride full dearely he did pryse ; 

For of a womans hand it was y wroke. 

That of the wound he yet in languor lyes, 

Ne can be cured of that cruell stroke 

Which Britomart him gave, when, he did her provoke. 

Yet farre and neare the nymph, his mother sought. 

And many salves did to his sore applie, 

And many herbes did use : but whenas nought 

She saw could ease his rankling maladie ; 

At last to Tryphon she for helpe did hie, 

(This Tryphon is the sea-gods surgeon hight,) 

Whom she besought to find some remedie : 

And for his paines a whistle him behight, 

That of a fishes shell was wrought with rare delight. 

So well that leach did hearke to her request. 

And did so well employ his carefall paine. 

That in short space his hurts he had redrest. 

And him restor'd to healthfuU state againe : 

In which he long time after did remaine 

There with the nymph his mother, like her thrall 5 

Who sore against his will did him retaine, 

For feare of perill which to him mote fall 

Through his too ventrous prowesse proved over alL 

It fortun'd then, a solemn feast was there 

To all the sea-gods and their fruitfuU seede. 

In honour of the spousalls which then were 

Betwixt the Medway and the Thames agreed. 

Long had the Thames (as we in records reed) 

Before that dky her wooed to his bed ; 

But the proud nymph would for no worldly meed, 

Nor no entreatie, to his love be led ; 

Till now at last relenting she to him was wed. 

So both agreed that this their bridale feast 
Should for the gods in Proteus house be made ; 
To which they all repay r'd, both most and least. 
As well which in the mightie ocean trade, 
As that in rivers swim, or brookes doe wade : 
All which, not if an hundred tongues to tell. 
And hundred mouthes, and voice of brasse I had. 
And endlesse memorie that mote excell, 
In order as they came could I recoimt them well. 
23 



518 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Helpe therefore, O tlion sacred impe of love. 

The noursling of dame Memorie his deare, 

To whom those rolles, layd up in heaven ahove. 

And records of antiquitie appeare, 

To which no wit of man may coraen neare ; 

Helpe me to tell the names of all those floods 

And all those nymi)hes, which then assembled were 

To that great banquet of the watry gods, 

And all their sundry kinds, and all their hid abodes. 

First came great N"eptune, with his tJiree-forkt mace. 

That rules the seas and makes them rise or fall. 

His dewy lockes did drop with brine apace 

Under his diademe imperiall : 

And by his side his queene with coronal!, 

Faire Amphi trite, most divinely faire. 

Whose yvorie shoulders weren covered all, 

As with a robe, with her owne silver haire, [paire. 

And deckt with pearles which th* Indian seas for her pre- 

These marched farre afore the other crew : 

And all the way before them, as they went, 

Triton his trompet shrill before them blew, 

For goodly triumph and great ioUyment, 

That made the rockes to roare as they were rent. 

And after them the royall issue came, 

"Which of them sprung by lineall descent : 

First the sea-gods, which to themselves doe clame 

The powre to rule the billowes, and the waves to tame; 

Phorcys, the father of that fatall brood, 

By whom those old heroes wonne such fame ; 

And Glaucus, that wise southsaj^es understood; 

And tragicke Inoes sonne, the which became 

A god of seas thi'ough his mad mothers blame, 

JN'ow hight Palemon, and is saylers frend ; 

Great Brontes ; and Astraeus, that did shame 

Himselfe with incest of his kin unkend ; 

And huge Orion, that doth tempests still portend; 

The rich Cteatus ; and Eurytus long ; 
Neleus and Bellas, lovely brethren both ; 
Mightie Chrysaor ; and Caicus strong ; 
Eurypulus, that calmes the waters wroth ; 
And faire Euphoemus, that upon them go'th. 
As on the ground, without dismay or dread; 
Fierce Eryx ; and Alebius, that know'th 
The waters depth, and doth their bottome tread; 
And sad Asopus, comely with his hoarie head. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 519 

There also some most famous founders were 

Of puissant nations, which the world possest, 

Yet sonnes of Neptune, now assembled here : 

Ancient Ogyges, even th'auncientest; 

And Inachus renowmd above the rest; 

Phoenix; and Aon; and Pelasgus old; 

Great Belus ; Phoeax ; and Agenor best ; 

And mightie Albion, father of the bold 

And warlike people which the Britaine Islands hold : 

Por Albion the sonne of ISTeptune was ; 

Who, for the proofe of his great puissance. 

Out of his Albion did on dry-foot pas 

Into old Gall, that now is cleeped France, 

To fight with Hercules, that did advance 

To vanquish all the world with matchlesse mighte; 

And there his mortall part by great mischance 

Was slaine ; but that which is th' immortall spright 

lives still, and to this feast with JSTeptunes seed was diglit, 

!But what do I their names seeke to reherse, 

Which all the world have with their issue fild ? 

How can they all in this so narrow verse 

Contayned be, and in small compasse hild? 

Let them record them that are better skild. 

And know the moniments of passed age: 

Onely what needeth shall be here fulfild, * 

T* expresse some part of that great equipage 

Which from great Neptune do derive their parentage. 

Next came the aged Ocean and his dame 
Old Tethys, th' oldest two of all the rest; 
Por all the rest of those two parents came. 
Which afterward both sea and land possest; 
Of all which Nereus, th' eldest and the best. 
Did first proceed; then which none more upright, 
Ne more sincere in word and deed profest; 
Most voif'.e of guile, most free from fovvle despight. 
Doing himselfe and teaching others to doe right: 

Thereto he was expert in prophecies, 

And could the ledden of the gods unfold ; 

Through which, when Paris brought his famous prise. 

The faire Tindarid lasse, he him foretold 

That her all Greece with many a champion bold 

Should fetch againe, and finally destroy 

Proud Priams towne : so wise is Nereus old. 

And so well skild; nathlesse he takes great ioy 

Oft-times amongst the wanton nymphs to sport and toy. 



520 THE FAERIE QTTEENB. 

And after him tlie famous rivers came. 

Which doe the earth enrich and beautifie : 

The fertile Nile, which creatures new doth frame ;^ 

Long Rhodanus, whose sourse springs from the skie; 

Faire Ister, flowing from the mountaines hie; 

Divine Seaman der, purpled yet with blood 

Of Greeks and Troians, which therein did die; 

Pactolus ghstring with his golden flood ; 

And Tygris fierce, whose streames of none may be withstood ; 

Great Ganges; and immortall Euphrates; 
Peepe Indus; and Mseander intricate; 
Slow Peneus; and tempestuous Phasides; 
Swift E/hene; and Alpheus still immaculate; 
Ooraxes, feared for great Cyrus fate; 
Tybris, renowmed for the Aomaines fame; 
llich Oranochy, though but knowen late; 
And that huge river, which doth beare his name 
Of warlike Amazons which doe possesse the same. 

loy on those warlike women, which so long 

Can from all men so rich a kingdome hold ! 

And shame on you, O men, which boast your strong 

And valiant hearts, in thoughts lesse hard and bold. 

Yet quaile in conquest of that land of gold ! 

But this to you, O Britons most pertaines. 

To whom the right hereof itselfe hath sold; 

The which, for sparing litle cost or paines. 

Loose so immortall glory, and so endlesse gaines. 

Then was there heard a most celestiall sound 
Of dainty musicke, which did next ensew 
Before the spouse : that was Arion ^crownd ; 
"Who, playing on his harpe, unto him drew 
The eares and hearts of all that goodly crew 
That even yet the dolphin, which him bore 
Through the ^gean seas from pirates vew. 
Stood still by him astonisht at his lore. 
And all the raging seas for ioy forgot to rore. 

So went he playing on the watery plaine : 

Soone after whom the lovely bridegroome came. 

The noble Thames, with all his goodly traine. 

But him before there went, as best became, 

His auncient parents, namely th' auncient Thame; 

But much more aged was his wife then he, 

The Ouze, whom men doe Isis rightly name : 

Full weake and crooked creature seemed sliee. 

And almost blind through eld, that scarce her way could sec. 



THE FAEEIB QTJEENE. 521 

Tlierefore on either side slie was sustained 

Of two smal grooms, wliicli by their names were hight^ 

The Cburne and Charwell, two small streames, which pained 

Themselves her footicg to direct aright, 

Which fay led oft through faint and feeble plight : 

But Thame was stronger, and of better stay j 

Yet seem'd full aged by his outward sight, 

With bead all hoary, and his beard all gray, 

Deawed with silver drops that trickled downe alway: 

And eke he somewhat seem'd to stonpe afore 

With bowed backe, by reason of the lode 

And auncient heavy burden which he bore 

Of that faire city, wherein make abode 

So many learned impes, that shoote abrode. 

And with their braunches spred all Britany, 

No lesse then do her elder sisters broode. 

loy to you both, ye double noursery 

Of arts ! but, Oxford, thine doth Thame most glorify. 

But he their sonne full fresh and ioUy was. 

All decked in a robe of watchet hew, 

On which the waves, glittering like christall glas, 

So cunningly enwoven w^ere, that few 

Could weenen Avhether they were false or trew: 

And on his head like to a coronet 

He wore, that seemed strange to common vew, 

In which were many towres and castels set, 

That it encompast round as with a golden fret. 

Like as the mother of the gods, they say. 

In her great iron charet wonts to ride. 

When to loves pallace she doth take her way. 

Old Cybele, arayd with pompous pride. 

Wearing a diademe embattild wide 

With hundred turrets, like a turribant. 

With such an one was Thamis beautifide; 

That was to weet the famous Troynovant, 

In which her kingdomes throne is chiefly resiant. 

And round about him many a pretty page 

Attended duely, ready to obay; 

All little rivers which owe vassallage 

To him, as to their lord, and tribute pay: 

The chaulky Kenct; and the Thetis gray; 

The morish Cole ; and the soft-sliding Breane ; 

The wanton Lee, tliat oft doth loose his way; 

And the still Darent, in whose waters cleane 

Ten thousand &hes play and decke his pleasant streame. 



522 THE TAERIE QTTEENE. 

Then came Iiis neioflibour flouds wliichnigliliim dwell. 

And water all the English soilethrouizhout ; 

They all on him this day attended well. 

And with meet service waited him about; 

iNe none disdain ed low to him to lout : 

JSTo not the stately Severne grudg'd at all, 

Ne storming Humber, though he looked stout; 

But both him honor'd as their principall. 

And let their sweUing waters low before him fall. 

There was the speedy Tamar, which divides 

The Cornish and the Devonish confines; 

Through both whose borders swiftly downe it glides. 

And, meeting Plira, to Plimmouth thence declines : 

And Dart, nigh chockt Tf ith sands of tinny mines : 

But Avon marched in more stately path, 

Proud of his adamants with which he shines 

And glisters wide, as als of wondrous Bath, 

And Bristow faire, which on his waves he builded hath. 

And there came Stoure with terrible aspect. 
Bearing his sixe deformed heads on hye. 
That doth his course through Blandford plains direct. 
And washeth Winborne meades in season drye. 
Next him went Wylibourne with passage slye, ' 
That of his wylinesse his name doth take, 
And of himselfe doth name the shire thereby: 
And Mole, that like a nousling mole doth make 
His way stiU under ground till Thames he overtake. 

Then came the Eother, decked all with woods 

Like a wood-god, and flowing fast tc E^hy; 

And Sture, that parte th with his pleasant floods 

The easterne Saxons from the southerne ny, 

And Clare and Harwitch both doth beautify: 

Him follow'd Yar, soft washing Norwitch wall. 

And with him brought a present ioyfully 

Of his owne fish unto their festivall, 

Whose like none else could shew, the which they ruffins call. 

TsText these the plenteous Ouse c^me far from land. 

By many a city and by many a towne. 

Aid many rivers taken under-hand 

Into his waters, as he passeth downe, 

(The Cle, the Were, the Guant, the Sture, the Eowne,) 

Thence doth by Huntingdon and Cambridge flit. 

My mother Cambridge, whom as with a crowne 

He doth adorne, and is adorn'd of it 

With many a gentle muse and many a learned wit. 



THE TAEEIE QUEENE. f>23 

And after liim tlie fatall Welland went, 
Tliat if old sawes prove true (which God forbid !) 
Shall drowne all Holland with his excrement. 
And shall see Stamford, though now homely hid. 
Then shine in learning more than ever did 
Cambridge or Oxford, Englands goodly beames. 
And next to him the jSTene downe softly sHd ; 
And bounteous Trent, that in himselfe enseames 
Both thirty sorts offish and thirty sundry streamea. 

I^ext these came Tyne, along whose stony bancke 

That Homaine monarch built a brasea wall, 

Which mote the feebled Britons strongly flancko 

Against the Picts that swarmed over all. 

Which yet thereof Gualsever they doe calt : 

And Twede, the limit betwixt Logris land 

And Albany :^ and Eden, though but small. 

Yet often stainde with bloud of many a band 

Of Scots and English both, that tyned on his strand. 

Then came those sixe sad brethren, like forlorne. 

That whilome were, as antique fathers tell, 

Sixe valiant knights of one faire nymphe yborne. 

Which did in noble deedes of armes excell, 

And wonned there where now Yorke people dwell : 

Still Ure, swift Werfe, and Oze the most of might, 

High Swale, unquiet i^ide, and troublous Skell ; 

All whom a Scythian king, that Humber highfc, 

Slew cruelly, and in the river drowned quite : 

But past not long, ere Brutus warlicke sonne 

Locrinus them aveng'd, and the same date. 

Which the proud Humber unto them had donne. 

By equall dome repayd on his owne pate : 

For in the selfe same river, where he late ^ 

Had drenched them, he drowned bim againe; 

And nam'd the river of his wretched fate; 

Whose bad condition yet it doth retaine. 

Oft tossed with his stormes which therein still remaine. 

These after came the stony shallow Lone, 
That to old Loncaster his name doth lend ; 
And following Dee, which Britons long ygone 
Did call divine, that doth by Chester tend; 
And Conway, which out of his streame doth send 
Plenty of pearles to decke his dames withall ; 
And Lindus, that his pikes doth most commend, 
Of which the auncient Lincolne men doe call : 
All these together marched toward Proteus hall. 



52i THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

Ne tlience the Irlslie rivers absent were : 

Sith no lesse famous then tlie rest they bee, 

And iojne in neighbourhood of kingdome nere, 

Why should they not likewise in love agree. 

And ioy likewise this solemne day to see ? 

They saw it all, and present were in place : 

Though I them all, according their degree. 

Cannot recount, nor tell their hidden race, 

Now read the salvage countries thorough wliich they pace. 

There was the Liffy rolling downe the lea; 

The Sandy Slane ; the stony Aubrion ; 

The spacious Shenan spreading like a sea; 

The pleasant Boyjie ; the fishy fruitfuU Ban ; 

Swift Awniduff, which of the English man 

Is cal'de Blacke- water ; and the LiiFar deep 5 

Sad Trowis, that once his people over-ran ; 

Strong Alio tombling from Slewlogher steep ; 

And MuUa mine, whose waves I whilom taught to weep. 

And there the three renowmed brethren were. 

Which that great gyant Blomius begot 

Of the faire nimph Hheiisa wandring there : 

One day, as she to shunne the season whot 

Under Slewboome in shady grove was got, 

This gyant found her and by force defiowr'd ? 

"Whereof conceiving, she in time forth brought 

These three faire sons, which thenceforth powrd 

In three great rivers ran, and many countreis scowri 

The first the gentle Shure that, making way 
By sweet Clonmell, adornes rich Waterford ; 
Tiie next, the stubborn e Newre, whose waters gray 
By fair Kilkenny and Hosseponte boord ; 
The third, the goodly Barow, which doth hoor 
Great heaps of salmons in his deepe bosome : 
All which, long sundred, doe at last accord 
To ioyne in one, ere to the sea they come ; 
So, flowing all from one, all one at last become. 

There also was the wide embayed Mayre ; 

The pleasaunt Bandon crownd with many a wood; 

The spreading Lee that, like an island fayre, 

Encloseth Corke with his divided flood ; 

And balefuU Oure late staind with English blood: 

With many more whose names no tongue can telL 

All which that day in order seemly good 

Did on the Thames attend, and waited well 

To doe their dueful service, as to them befeU. 



THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 525 

Then came tTie bride, tlie lovely Medua came. 

Clad in a vesture of unknowen geare 

And uncouth fashion, yet her well became, 

Tliat seem'd like silver sprinckled here and theare 

With glittering spangs that did like starres appeare. 

And wav'd upon, like water charaelot. 

To hide the metall, which yet every where 

Bewrayed itselfe, to let men plainely wot 

It was no mortal! worke, that seem'd and yet was not. 

Her goodly lockes adowne her backe did flow 
Unto her waste, with flowres bescattered, 
The which ambrosiall odours forth did thro\r 
To all about, and all her shoulders spred 
As a new spring ; and likewise on her hed 
A chapelet of sundry flowers she wore, 
From under which the deawy humour shed 
Did tricle downe her haire, like to the hore 
Congealed litle drops which doe the morne adorer 

On her two pretty handmaides did attend. 

One cald the Theise, the other called the Crane; 

Which on her waited things amisse to mend, 

And both behind upheld her spredding traine ; 

Under the which her feet appeared plaine. 

Her silver feet, faire washt against this day; 

And her before there paced pages twaine, 

Both clad in colours like and like array, 

The Doune and eke the Frith, both which prepared her way. 

And after these the sea-nymphs marched all, 
All goodly damzels, deckt with long greene haire. 
Whom of their sire Nereides men call, 
All which the Oceans daughter to him bare. 
The gray-eyede Doris ; all which fifty are ; 
All which she there on her attending had: 
Swift Pro to; milde Eucrate ; Thetis faire; 
Soft Spio ; sweete Endore ; Sao sad ; 
Light Doto ; wanton Glance ; and Galene glad 

White-hand Eunica ; proud Dynamene ; 

loyous Thalia ; goodly Amphitrite ; 

Lovely Pasitliee ; kinde Eulimene ; 

Light-foote Cymothoe; and sweete Melit5| 

Fairest Pherusa ; Phao lilly white ; 

Wondred Agave ; Poris ; and Nesa^a ; 

With Erato that doth in love delite ; 

And PanopsD ; and wise Protomedaea, 

And snowy-neckd Doris ; and milke- white Galathaeaj 



526 THE FAEEIE QUEENS. 

Speedy Hippotlioe ; and cliaste Actea ; 

Large Lisianassa; and Pronsea sage; 

Euagore ; and light Pontoporea ; 

And, she that with her least word can asswag© 

The surging seas when they do sorest rage, 

Cymodoce ; and stout Autonoe ; 

And Neso ; and Eione well in age ; 

And seeming still to smile Glaucononie -^ 

And, she that hight of many heastes, Polynoni^; 

Fresh Alimeda deckt with girlond greene ; 
Hyponeo with salt-bedewed wrests ; 
Laomedia like the chrystall sheene ; 
Liagore much praisd for wise behests ; 
And Psamathe for her brode snowy brests; 
Cymo ; Eupompe ; and Themiste iust ; 
And, she that vertue loves and vice detests, 
Euama ; and Menippe true in trust ; 
And Nemertea learned well to rule her lust. 

All these the daughters of old ISTereus were, 
Which have the sea in charge to them assinde. 
To rule his tides, and surges to uprere. 
To bring forth stormes, or fast them to upbinde. 
And sailers save from wreckes of wrathfull winde. 
And yet besides, three thousand more there were 
Of th' Oceans seede, but loves and Phoebus kinde; 
The which in floods and fountaines doe appere, 
And aU mankinde do nourish with their waters clerew 

The which, more eath it were for mortall wight 
To sell the sands, or count the starres on hye. 
Or ought more hard, then thinke to reckon right. 
But well I wote that these, which I descry, 
Were present at this great solemnity : 
And there, amongst the rest, the mother waa 
Of luckelesse Marinell, Cymodoce ; 
Which, for my muse herselfe now tyred has. 
Unto an other canto I will overpas. 



XHE TXESIH QTTEENB. 627 



CAITTO xn. 

JTarin, for love of Florimell, 

In languor wastes his life : 
The nymph, his mother, getteth her 

And gives to him for wife. 

O WHAT an endlesse worke liave I in hand. 

To count the seas abundant progeny, 

Whose fruitful! seede farre passeth those in land. 

And also those which wonne in th' azure sky ! 

Por much more eath to tell the starres on hy, 

Albe they endlesse seeme in estimation, 

Then to recount the seas posterity: 

So fertile be the flouds in generation, 

So huge their numbers, and so numberlesse their nation. 

Therefore the antique wisards well invented 

That Venus of the fomy sea was bred ; 

For that the seas by her are most augmented. 

Witnesse th* exceeding fry which there are fed. 

And wondrous sholes which may of none be red. 

Then blame me not if I have err'd in count 

Of gods, of nymphs, of rivers, yet unred : 

IFor though their numbers do much more surmount. 

Yet all those same were there which erst I did recount. 

All those were there, and many other more. 

Whose names and nations were too long to tell. 

That Proteus house they fild even to the dore ; 

Yet were they all in order, as befell. 

According their degrees disposed well. 

Amongst the rest was faire Cymodoce, 

The mother of unlucky Marinell, 

Who thither with her came, to leame and seo 

The manner of the gods when they at banquet be, • 

But for he was halfe mortall, being bred 
Of mortall sire, though of immortall wombe. 
He might not with immortall food be fed, 
Ne with th* eternall gods to bancket come ; 
33ut walkt abrode, and rouud about did romo 
To view the building of that uncouth place. 
That seem'd unhke unto his earthly home : 
Where, as he to and fro by chaunco did tracei 
There unto him betid a diaadventrous caae. 



528 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE, 

Under the hanging of an hideous ch'efie 

He heard the lamentable voice of one, 

That piteously complaind her careful gricffe. 

Which never she before disclosd to none, 

But to herselfe her sorrow did bemone: 

So feelingly her case she did complaine. 

That ruth it moved in the rocky stone. 

And made it seeme to feele her grievous paine, 

And oft to grone with billowes beating from the maine: 

" Though vaine I see my sorrowes to unfold 
And count my cares, when none is nigh to heare ; 
Yet, hoping griefe may lessen being told, 
I will them tell though unto no man neare : 
For heaven, that unto all lends equall eare, 
Is farre from hearing of my heavy plight ; 
And lowest hell, to which I He most neare. 
Cares not what evils hap to wretched wight ; 
And greedy seas doe in the spoile of life delight. 

" Yet loe ! the seas I see by often beating. 

Doe pearce the rockes ; and hardest marble weares ; 

But his hard rocky hart for no entreating 

Will yeeld, but, when my piteous plaints he heareSi 

Is hardned more with my aboundant teares : 

Yet though he never list to me relent, 

But let me waste in woe my wretched yeares. 

Yet will I never of my love repent, 

But ioy that for his sake I suner prisonment. 

"And when my weary ghost, with griefe outwome. 
By timely death shall winne her wished rest. 
Let then this plaint unto his eares be borne. 
That blame it is, to him that armes profest, 
To let her die whom he might have redrest !** 
There did she pause, inforced to give place 
Unto the passion that her heart opprest ; 
And, after she had wept and wail'd a space. 
She gan afresh thus to renew her wretched case : 

** Ye gods of seas, if any gods at all 

Have care of right or ruth of wretches wrong. 

By one or other way me woefull thrall 

Deliver hence out of this dungeon strong. 

In which I daily dying am too long : 

And if ye deeme me death for loving one 

That loves not me, then doe it not prolong. 

But let me die and end my daies attone. 

And let him live unloved, or love himselfe alone. 



THE rAERIE QT7EENE. 629 

** But if that life ye unto me decree, 

Then let mee live, as lovers ought to do. 

And of my lifes deare love beloved be: 

And, if he should through pride your doome undo. 

Do you by duresse him compell thereto, 

And in this prison put him here with me ; 

One prison fittest is to hold us two : 

So had I rather to be thrall then free ; 

Such thraldome or such freedome let it surely bo. 

" But O vaine iudgment,*and conditions vaine, 

The which the prisoner points unto the free ! 

The whiles I him condemne, and deeme his paine. 

He where he list goes loose, and laughes at me ; 

So ever loose, so ever happy be 1 

But whereso loose or happy that thou art, 

Know, Marinell, that all this is for thee !" 

With that she wept and wail'd, as if her hart [smarb. 

Would quite have burst through great abundance of her 

All which complaint when Marinell had heard. 
And understood the cause of all her care 
To come of him for using her so hard ; 
His stubborne heart that never felt misfare, 
Was toucht with soft remorse and i:)itty rare ; 
That even for grief of minde he of b did grone, 
And inly wish that in his powre it weare 
Her to redresse : but since he meanes found none. 
He could no more but her great misery bemone. 

Thus, whilst his stony heart with tender ruth, 
Was toucht, and mighty courage mollifide. 
Dame Venus sonne that tameth stubborne youth 
With iron bit, and maketh him abide 
Till like a victor on his backe he ride. 
Into his mouth his maystring bridle threw. 
That made him stoupe, till he did him bestride : 
Then gan he make him tread his steps anew. 
And learne to love by learning lovers paines to row. 

Kow gan he in his grieved minde devise, 
How from that dungeon he might her enlarge : 
Some while he thought, by faire and humble wis© 
To Proteus selfe to sue for her discharge : 
But then he fear'd his mothers former charge 
Gainst womens love, long given him in vame: 
Then gan he tbinke, perforce with sword and targe 
Her forth to fetch, and Proteus to constrainc : 
But floone he gan such folly to fortMnke againe. 



530 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Then did lie cast to steale her thence away, 

And with him beare where none of her might knoTT. 

But all in vaine : for why ? he found no way 

To enter in, or issue forth below ; 

For all about that rocke the sea did flow. 

And though unto his will she given were, 

Yet, without ship or bote her thence to row. 

He wist not how her thence away to here ; 

And daunger well he wist long to continue there. 

At last, whenas no meanes he could invent, 

Backe to himselfe he gan returne the blame. 

That was the author of her punishment ; 

And with vile curses and reprochfull shame 

To damne himselfe by every evil name. 

And deeme unworthy or of love or life. 

That had despisde so chast and faire a dame. 

Which him had sought through trouble and long strife 

Yet had refusde a god that her had sought to wife. 

In this sad plight he walked here and there, 
And romed round about the rocke in vaine. 
As he had lost himselfe he wist not where ; 
Oft listening if he mote her heare againe ; 
And still bemoning her unworthy paine : 
Like as an hynde whose calfe is falne unwares 
Into some pit, where she him heares complaine. 
An hundred times about the pit side fares. 
Bight sorrowfully mourning her bereaved cares. 

And now by this the feast was throughly ended. 
And every one gan homeward to resort : 
Which seeing, Marinell was sore offended 
That his departure thence should be so short. 
And leave his love in that sea- walled fort 
Yet durst he not liis mother disobay ; 
But, her attending in full seemly sort, 
Did march amongst the many all the way; 
And all the way did inly mourne, like one astray. 

Being returned to his mothers bowre. 

In solitary silence far from wight 

He gan record the lamentable stowre. 

In which his wretched love lay day and night. 

For his deare sake, that ill deserv'd that plight : 

The thought whereof empierst his hart so deepe, 

That of no worldly thing he tooke delight ; 

Ne dayly food did take, ne nightlj^ sleepe. 

But pyn*d, and moum'd, and languisht, and alone did weeps ; 



THE FAEBIE QITEENE. 531 

That in sliort space liis wonted cliearefull Iiew 
Gan fade, and lively spirits deaded quight: 
His clieeke-bones raw, and eie-pits hollow grew, 
And brawney armes had lost their knowen might. 
That nothing like Limselfe he seem'd in sight. 
Ere long so weake of limbe, and sicke of love 
He woxe, that lenger he note stand upright. 
But to his bed was brought^ and layd above, 
Like ruefi^l ghost, unable once to stir or move, 

* Wliich when his mother saw, she in her mind 
Was troubled sore, ne wist well what to weene; 
!Ne could by search nor any meanes out find 
The secret cause and nature of his teene, 
Whereby she might apply some medicine ; 
But weeping day and night did him attend, 
And mourn'd to see her losse before her eyne, 
Which griev'd her more that she it could not mend: 
To see an helplesse evill double griefe doth lend. 

IN'ought could she read the root of his disease, 
3N^e weene what mister maladie it is, 
Whereby to seeke some means it to appease. 
Most did she thinke, but most she thought amis, 
Th-it that same former fatall wound of his 
Whyleare by Tryphon was not throughly healed. 
But closely rankled under th* orifis : 
Least did she thinke, that which he most concealed. 
That love it was, which in his hart lay unrevealed. 

Therefore to Tryphon she againe doth hast, 

And him doth chyde as false and fraudulent. 

That fayld the trust which she in him had plast. 

To cure her sonne, as he his faith had lent ; 

Who now was falne into new languishment 

Of his old hurt, "v^hich was not throughly cured. 

So backe he came unto her patient ; 

Where, searching every part, her well assured 

That it was no old sore which his new paine procured ; 

Bui that it was some other maladie, 

Or grief unknowne, which he could not discerne : 

So left he her withouten remedie. 

Then gan her heart to faint, and quake, and earne. 

And inly troubled was, the truth to learne. 

Unto himselfe she came, and him besought, ^ 

Now with faire speeches, now with threatenings sterne. 

If ought lay hidden in his grieved thought. 

It to xeveale : "who still her answered, there was noughts 



532 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE, 

Katlilesse she rested not so satisfide; 

But leaving watry gods, as bootiDf? ncnglit. 

Unto llie sliinie heaven in haste she liide, 

And thence Apollo king of leaches brought. 

Apollo came ; who, soone as he had sought 

Through his disease, did by and by out find 

That he did languish of some inward thought. 

The which afflicted his engrieved mind ; 

Which love he red to be, that leads each living land. 

Which when he had unto his mother told, 

She gan thereat to fret and greatly grieve : 

And, comming to her sonne, gan first to scold 

And chyde at him that made her misbelieve : 

But afterwards she gan him soft to shrieve. 

And wooe with fair intreatie, to' disclose 

Which of the nymph es his heart so sore did mieve: 

For sure she weend it was some one of those, 

Which he had lately scene, that for his love lie chose. 

Now lesse she feared that same fatall read. 
That warned him of womens love beware : 
Which being ment of mortal creatures sead, 
"For love of nymijhes she thought she need not care 
But promist him, whatever wight she w^eare. 
That she her love to him would shortly gaine : • 
So he her told : but soone as she did heare ^ 
That Florimell it was which wrought his paine, 
She gan afresh to chafe, and grieve in every vaine. 

Yet since she saw the str eight extremitie. 
In which his life unluckily was layd. 
It was no time to scan the prophecie. 
Whether old Proteus true or false had sayd, 
That his decay should happen by a mayd ; 
(It's late, in death, of daunger to advize ; 
Or love forbid him, that is life den ay d ;) 
But rather gan in troubled mind devize 
How she that ladies libertie might enterprise. 

To Proteus selfe to sew she thought it vaine, 

Wlio was the root and worker of her woe ; 

Nor unto any meaner to complaine ; 

But unto great King Neptune selfe did goe, 

And, on her knee before him falling lowe. 

Made humble suit unto his maiestie 

To graunt to her her sonncs life, which his foe, 

A cruel 1 tyraut, had prcsumpleouslie 

By wicked doome condemn'd a wretched death to die. 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 533 

To wliom god ]N"eptuTie, softly smyling, thus : 

" Daughter, me seemes of double wrong ye plaine. 

Gainst one that hath both wronged you and us : 

For death t'adward I ween'd did appertaine 

To none but to the seas sole soveraine : 

Bead therefore who it is which this hath wrought, 

And for what cause ; the truth discover plaine : 

For never wight so evill did or thought, [nouglifc/'^ 

But would some rightfiill cause pretend, though rightly 

To whom she answer'd ; " Then it is by name 

Proteus, that hath ordayn'd my sbnne to die ; 

For that a waift, the which by fortune cam© 

Upon your seas, he claym'd as propertie : 

And yet nor his, nor his in equitie, 

But yours the waift by high prerogative : 

Therefore I humbly crave your majestie 

It to replevie, and my sonne reprive : 

So shall you by one gift save all us three alive.** 

He graunted it : and streight his warrant made. 
Under the sea-god's scale autenticall, 
Commaunding Proteus straight t' enlarge the mayd 
Which wandring on his seas imperiall 
He lately tooke, and sithence kept as thrall. 
Which she receiving with meete thankefulnesse. 
Departed straight to Proteus therewithall : 
Who, reading it with inward loathfulnesse. 
Was grieved to restore the pledge he did possesso. 

Yet durst he not the warrant to withstand. 
But unto her delivered Florimell : 
Whom she receiving by the lilly hand, 
Admyr'd her beau tie much, as she mote wcH, 
For she all living creatures did excell. 
And was right ioyous that she gotten had 
So faire a wife for her sonne Marinell.^ 
So home with her she streight the virgin lad. 
And shewed her to him then being sore bestad. 

Who soone as he beheld that angels face 

Adorn'd with all divine perfection. 

His cheared heart eftsoones away gan chace 

Sad death, revived with her sweet inspection. 

And feeble spirit inly felt refection ; 

As withered weed througli cruell winters tine, 

That feeles the warmth of sunny beames reflection, 

Liftes up his head that did before decline, 

And gins to spread his leafe before the faire sunshine. 



534 THE FAERIE QTTEENB. 

E-lglit SO himselfe did Marinell upreare, 
\YJien he in place liis dearest love did spy; 
And thougli his limbs could not his bodie beare, 
'Ne former strength return e so suddenly, 
Yet chearefuU signes he shewed outwardly. 
Ne lesse was she in secret hart affected, 
But that she masked it with modes tie, 
For feare she should of lightnesse be detected : 
WMcli to another place I leave to be perfected. 



THE FIFTH BOOKE 

OP 

THE FAEEIE QFEENE, 

CONTArNING 

^e ICcgenU of ^rtcQall, or of Sustice. 



SO offc as I with state of present time 
The image of the antique world compare, 
Whenas mans age was in his freshest prime, 
And. the first blossome of faire vertue bare ; 
Such oddes I finde twixt those, and these which are. 
As that, through long continuance of his course, 
Me seemes the world is runne quite out of square 
From the first point of his appointed sourse ; 
And being once amisse growes daily wourse and wourse: 

For from the golden age, that first was named. 

It's now at earst become a stonie one ; 

And men themselves, the which at first were framed 

Of earthly mould, and form'd of fiesh and bone. 

Are now transformed into hardest stone ; 

Such as behind their backs (so backward bred) 

Were throwne by Pyrrha and Deucalione : 

And if then those may any worse be red. 

They into that ere long will be degendered. 

Let none then blame me, if, in discipline 

Of vertue and of civill uses lore, 

I do not forme them to the common line 

Of present dayes which are corrupted sore ; 

But to the antique use which was of yore, 

When good was onely for itselfe desjTed, 

And all men sought their owne, and none no more ; 

When iustice was not for most meed outhyred. 

Bat simple truth did rayne, and was of all admyred. 

For that which all men then did vertue call, 

Is now cald vice ; and that which vice was hight, 

Is now hight vertue, and so us'd of all : 

Bight now is wrong, and wrong that was is right ; 

As all things else in time are chaunged quight : 

Ne wonder ; for the heavens revolution 

Is wandred farre from where it first was pight, 

And so do make contrarie constitution 

Of all this lower world toward his dissolution. 



536 THE PAEBIE QTTEENE. 

For wlioso list into tlie heavens looke, 

And search the courses of the rowKng spheares, 

Sliall find that from the point where they first tooke 

There setting forth, in these few thousand yeares 

They all are wandred much ; that plaine appeares : 

For that same golden fleecy ram, which bore 

Phrixus'and Helle from their stepdames feares. 

Hath now forgot where he was plast of yore, 

And shouldred hath the bull winch fayre Europa bore: 

And eke the bull hath with his bow-bent home 

So hardly butted those two twinnes of love. 

That they have crusht the crab, and quite him borne 

Into the great Nemsean lions grove. 

So now all range, and doe at randon rove 

Out of their proper places farre away. 

And all this world with them amisse doe move^ 

And all his creatures from their course astray; 

Till they arrive at their last ruinous decay. 

"Ne is that same great glorious lampe of light. 

That doth enlumine all these lesser fyres. 

In better case, ne keepes his course more right. 

But is miscaried with the other spheres : 

For since the terme of fourteen hundred yeres. 

That learned Ptolomsee his hight did take. 

He is declyned from that marke of theirs 

Nigh thirtie minutes to the southerne lake ; 

That makes me feare in time he will us quite forsake. 

And if to those Egyptian wi sards old 

(Which in star-read were wont have best insight) 

Faith may be given, it is by them told 

That since the time they first tooke the sunns hight, 

Foure times his place he shifted hath in sight, 

And twice hath risen where he now doth west, 

And wested twice where he ought rise aright. 

But most is Mars amisse of all the rest ; 

And next to him old Satume, that was wont be best. 

For during Saturnes ancient raigne it's sayd 

That all the world with goodnesse did abound ; 

All loved vertue, no man was afirayd 

Of force, ne fraud in wight was to be found, 

No warre was knowne, no dreadful trompets sound; 

Peace universal rayn'd mongst men and beasts : 

And all things freely grew out of the ground : 

Justice sate high ador'd with solemne feasts. 

And to all people did divide her dred beheasts : 



THE PAERIE QUEENE. 

Most sacred Yertue slie of all the rest, 
Besembling God in his ipaperiall might; 
.Whose soveraine powi*e is herein most exprest 
That both to good and bad he dealeth right. 
And all his workes with iustice hath bedight. 
That powre he also doth to princes lend 
And makes them like himselfe in glorious sight 
To sit in his own seate, his cause to end. 
And rule his people right, as he doth recommend. 

Pread soverayne goddesse, that doest highest sit 
In seate of iudgement in th* Almighties stead. 
And with magnificke might and wondrous wit 
Doest to thy people righteous doome aread, 
That furthest nations filles with awfull dread. 
Pardon the boldnesse of thy basest thrall. 
That dare discourse of so divine a read. 
As thy great iustice praysed over all ; 
The instrument whereof loo here thy ArtegalL 



637 



CANTO I. 

Artegall trayn'd in iustice lore 

Irenaes quest pursewed ; 
He doeth avenge on Sanglier 

His ladies bloud embrewed. 

Though vertue then were held in highest price, 

In those old times of which I doe intreat. 

Yet then likewise the wicked seede of vice 

Began to spring; which shortly grew full great. 

And with their boughes the gentle plants did beat : 

But evermore some of the vertuous race 

Jiose up, inspired with heroicke heat, 

Tiiat cropt the branches of the sient base. 

And with strong hand their fruitfuU rancknes did deface. 

Such first was Bacchug, that with furious might 

All th' east before untam'd did over-ronne. 

And wrong repressed, and establisht right, 

AVhich lawlesse men had formerly fordonne: 

Their Justice first her princely rule begonne. 

Next Hercules his like ensample shewed, 

Who all the west with equall conquest wonne, 

Ahd monstrous tyrants with his club subdewed ; 

The club of Iustice dread with kingly powre endewcd. 



538 THE FAEBIE QTTEENE. 

And sucli was lie of wHom I have to tell. 

The champion of true iustice, Artegall : 

Whom (as ye lately mote remember well) 

An hard adventure, which did then befall. 

Into redoubted perill forth did call ; 

That was, to succour a distressed dame 

Whom a strong tyrant did uniustly thrall, 

And from the heritage, which she did clame, 

Did with strong hand withhold ; Grantorto was his name. 

Wherefore the lady, which Irena hig"'- "; 

Did to the Faerie Queene her way addresse. 

To whom complayning her afflicted plight. 

She her besought of gratious redresse : 

That soveraine queene, that mightie emperesscp 

Whose glorie is to aide all suppliants pore. 

And of weake princes to be patronesse. 

Chose Artegall to right her to restore ; 

For that to her he seem'd best sldld in righteous lore. 

For Artegall in iustice was upbrought 

Even firom the cradle of his infancie 

And all the depth of rightfall doome was taught 

By faire Astraea, with great Industrie, 

Whilest here on earth she lived mortallie : 

For, till the world from his perfection fell 

Into all filth and foule iniquitie, 

Astraea here mongst earthly men did dwell, 

And in the rules of iustice them instructed well. 

Whiles through the world she walked in this sort. 

Upon a day she found this gentle childe 

Amongst his peres playing his childish sport; 

Whom seeing fit, and with no crime defilde. 

She did allure with gifts and speaches milde 

To wend with her : so thence him farre she brought 

Into a cave from companie exilde, 

In which she noursled him, till yeares he raught ; 

And all the discipline of iustice there him taught. 

There she him taught to weigh both right and wrong 

In equall ballance with due recompence, 

And e qui tie to measure out along 

According to the line of conscience, 

Whenso it needs with rigour to dispence ; 

Of all the which, for want there of mankind. 

She caused him to make experience 

Upon wyld beasts, which she in woods did find. 

With wrongful! powre oppressing others of their kind. 



THE PAEBIE QITEENE. 539 

Thus slie Mm trayned, and tlius slie him tauglit 
In all the skill of deeming wrong and right, 
Untill the ripenesse of mans yeares he aught ; 
That even wilde beasts did feare his awfull sight. 
And men admyr'd his over-ruling might ; 
Ne any liv'd on ground that durst withstand 
His dreadfull heast, much lesse him match in fight. 
Or bide the horror of his wreakfidl hand, 
Whenso he hst in wrath hfb up his steely brand : 

Which steely brand, to make him dreaded more 

She gave unto him, gotten by her slight 

And earnest search, where it was kept in store 

In loves eternall house, unwist of wight, 

Since he himselfe it us'd in that great fight 

Against the Titans, that whylome rebelled 

Gainst highest heaven : Chrysaor it was hight 5 

Chrysaor, that all other swords excelled, 

Weil prov'd in that same day when love those gyants quelled: 

Por of most perfect metall it was made, 
Tempred with adamant amongst the same. 
And garnisht all with gold upon the blade 
In goodly wise, whereof it tooke his name. 
And was of no lesse vertue then of fame : 
Por there no substance was so firme and hard. 
But it would pierce or cleave whereso it came; ... 
Ne any armour could his dint out-ward ; 
But wheresoever it did ligl^tj^^it throughly shard. 

Now when the world with sinne gan to abound, 

Astrsea loathing lenger here to space 

Mongst wicked men. in whom no truth she found, 

Heturn'd to heaven, whence she derived her race ; 

Where she hath now an everlasting place 

Mongst those twelve signes, which nightly we do see 

The heavens bright-shining baudricke to enchace ; 

And is the Virgin, sixt in her degree. 

And next herselfe her righteous ballance hanging bee. 

But when she parted hence she left her groome. 

An yron man, which did on her attend 

Always to execute her steadfast doome. 

And willed him with Artegall to wend, 

And doe whatever thing he did intend : 

His name was Talus, made of yron mould. 

Immoveable, resistlesse, without end ; 

Who in his band an yron flale did hould, 

With which he thresht out falshood, and did truth tmfould. 



640 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

He now went witli him in tliis new inquest. 

Him for to aide, if aide he chaunst to neede, 

Ai^ainst that craell tyrant, which opprest 

The faire Irena with liis foule misdeede, 

And kept the crowne in which she should succeed: 

And now together on their way they bin, 

Whenas they saw^ a squire in squallid weed 

Lamenting sore his sorrowfall sad tyne 

With many bitter teares shed from his blubbred eyne. 

To whoni as they approched, they espido 

A sorie sight as ever seene with eye. 

And headlesse ladie lying him beside 

In her owne blood all wallow'd wofully. 

That her gay clothes did in discolour die. 

Much was he moved at that rue full sight ; 

And flam'd with zeale of vengeance inwardly 

He askt who had that dame so fouly diglit, 

Or whether his owne hand, or whether other wight P 

*' Ah !^ woe is me, and well away," quoth hee 

Bursting forth teares like springs out of a banke, 

" That ever I this dismall day did see ! 

Full farre was I from thinking such a pranke ; 

Yet litle losse it were, and mickle thanke, 

If I should graunt that I have doen the same, 

That I mote drinke the cup whereof she dranke ; 

But that I should die guiltie of the blame. 

The which another did who no.w is fled with shame." 

" Who was it then," sayd Artegall, " that vrrought 

And why ? doe it declare unto me trew." 

** A knight," said he, ** if knight he may be thought. 

That did his hand in ladies blond embrew, 

And for no cause, but as I shall you shew. 

This day as I in solace sate hereby 

With a fayre love whose losse I now do rew. 

There came this knight, having in companie 

This lucklesse ladie which now here doth headlesse lie, 

*' He, whether mine seem*d fayrer in his eye. 
Or that he wexed weary of his owne, 
Would change with me ; but I did it denye. 
So did the ladies both, as may be knowne ; 
But he, whose spirit was with pride upblowne. 
Would not so rest contented with his right ; 
But, having from his courser her downe throwne. 
Fro me reft mine away by lawlesse might, 
And on his steed her set to beare her out of sight. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 541 

" Wliicli when Lis ladie saw, she follow'd fast 

And on liim catching hold gan loud to crie 

1^0 1 so to leave her nor away to cast, 

But rather of his hand besought to die r 

With that his sword he drew all wrathfally, 

And at one stroke cropt off her head with scome. 

In that same place whereas it now doth lie. 

So he my love away with him hath borne. 

And left me here both his and mine owne love to mourne." 

" Aread," said he ; " which way then did he make ? 

And by what markes may he be knowne againe ?'' 

** To hope," quoth he, " him soone to overtake. 

That hence so loug departed, is but vaine : 

But yet he pricked over yonder plain e, 

And as I marked bore upon his shield, . ■ 

By which it's easie him to know againe, 

A broken sword within a bloodie field : 

Expressing well his nature which the same did wield." 

ISTo sooner sayd, but streight he after sent 

His yron page, who him pursew*d so light. 

As that it seem'd above the ^ound he went: 

For he was swift as swallow in her flight. 

And strong as lyon in his lordly might. 

It was not long before he overtooke 

Sir Sanglier, (so cleeped was that knight). 

Whom at the first he ghessed by his looke. 

And by the other markes which of his shield he tooke. 

He bad him stay and backe with him retire; 

Who, full of scorne to be commaunded so. 

The lady to alight did eft require, 

Whilest he reformed that uncivill fo ; 

And streight at him with all his force did go : 

Who mov'd no more therewith, then when a rocke 

Is lightly stricken with some stones throw ; 

But to him leaping lent him such a knocke. 

That on the ground he layd him like a sencelesse blocke. 

But, ere he could hiraselfe recure againe. 
Him in his iron paw he seized had ; 
That when he wak't out of his warelesse paine^ 
He found himself unwist so ill bestad. 
That lim he could not wag : thence he him ad. 
Bound hke a beast appointed to the stall : 
The sight whereof the lady sore adrad. 
And fain'd to fly for feare of being thrall ; 
But he her quickly stayd, and forst to wend withall. 
24 



642 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

When to tlie place they came where Artegall 

By that same carefQll squire did then abide. 

He gently gan him to demaund of all 

That did betwixt him and that squire betide : 

Who with Sterne countenance and indignant pride 

Did aunswere, that of all he guiltlesse stood. 

And his accuser thereuppoh defide ; 

Tor neither he did shed that ladies bloud, 

Nor tooke away his love, but his owne proper good. 

Well did the squire perceive himselfe too weake 

To aunswere his defiaunce in the field, 

And rather chose his challenge oflP to breake 

Then to approve his right with speare and shield. 

And rather guilty chose himselfe to yield. 

But Artegall by signes perceiving plaine 

That he it was not which that lady kild, 

But that strange knight, the fairer love to gaine. 

Bid cast about by sleight the truth thereout to straine ; 

And sayd : "Kow sure this doubtful! causes right 

Can hardly but by sacrament be tride. 

Or else by ordele, or by blooddy fight. 

That ill perhaps mote fall to either side : 

Bat if ye please that I your cause decide. 

Perhaps I may all further quarrell end, 

So ye will sweare my iudgement to abide." 

Thereto they both did franckly condiscend, 

And to his doome with listfull cares did both attend. 

** Sith then," sayd he, " ye both the dead deny. 
And both the living lady claime your right. 
Let both the dead and living equally 
Devided be betwixt you here in sight. 
And each of either take his share aright. 
But looke, who does dissent from this my read. 
He for a twelve moneths day shall in despight 
Beare for his penaunce that same ladies head ; 
To witnesse to the world that she by him is dead." 

Well pleased with that doome was Sangliere, 

And.offred streight the lady to be slaiae : 

But that same squire to whom she was more dere, 

Whenas he saw she should be cut in twaine. 

Did yield she rather should with hun remaine 

AHve then to himselfe be shared dead ; 

And rather then his love should sufler paine. 

He chose with shame to beare that ladies head : 

True love despiseth shame when life is cald in dread. 



THE FAERIE QT7EENE. 543 

Whom when so willing Artegall perceaved ; 

" Not so, thou sguire/' he sayd, *' but thine I deemo 

The living lady, which from thee he reaved : 

For worthj^ thou of her doest rightly seeme. 

And you, sir knight, that love so light esteeme, 

As that 3^e would for little leave thS same, 

Take here your owne that doth you best beseeme. 

And with it beare the burden of defame : 

Your owne dead ladies head, to tell abrode your ^amo.'* 

But Sangliere disdained much his doome, 
And sternly gan repine at his beheast ; 
Ne would for ought obay, as did become, 
To beare that ladies head before his breast 
Untill that Talus had his pride represt. 
And forced him, maulgre, it up to reare. 
Who when he saw it bootelesse to^ resist, 
He tooke it up, and thence with him did beare; 
As rated spaniell takes his burden up for feare. 

Much did that squire Sir Artegall adore 
For his great iustice held in high regard ; 
And as his squire him offred evermore 
To serve, for want of other meete reward. 
And wend with him on his adventure hard : 
Bat he thereto would by no meanes consent; 
But leaving him forth on his iourney far'd : 
Ne wight with him but onely Talus went ; ^ 
They two enough t'encounter an whole regiment. 



CANTO 11. 

Artegall heares of Florimell ; 

Does with the pagan fig!it : 
Hira slaies ; drownes Lady Munera; 

Does race her castle quight. 

Nought is more honourable to a knight, 

Ne better doth beseeme brave chevalry. 

Then to defend the feeble in their right. 

And wrong redresse in such as wend awry : 

Whilome those great heroes got thereby 

Their greatest glory for their rightfuU deedes. 

And place deserved with the gods on hy : 

Herein the noblesse of this knight exceedes, 

Who now to perils great for iustice sake procecdeB : 



544 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

To wMcli as lie now was uppon tJie way, 

He cliaunst to meet a dwarfe in hasty course ; 

Whom he requir'd his forward hast to stay, 

Till he of tidings mote with him discourse. 

Loth was the dwarfe, yet did he stay perforse. 

And gan of sundry newes his store to tell, 

As to his memory they had recourse ; 

But chiefly of the fairest Florimell, 

How she vas found againe, and spousde to Marinell, 

Tor this was Dony, riorimells owne dwarfe. 
Whom having lost (as ye have heard whyleare) 
And finding in the way the scattred scarfe, 
The fortune of her life long time did feare : 
But of her health when Artegall did heare. 
And safe returne, he was full inly glad, 
And askt him where and when her bridale cheare 
Should be solemniz'd : for if time he had, 
He would be there, and honor to her spousall ad. 

"Within three daies," quoth he, "as I do heare. 

It will be at the castle of the strond ; 

What time, if naught me let, I will be there 

To do her service so as I am bond. 

But in my way a httle here beyond 

A cursed cruell sarazin doth wonne. 

That keepes a bridges passage by strong hond, 

And many errant knights hath there fordonne ; 

That makes all men for feare that passage for to shonne.** 

" What mister wight,'* quoth he, " and how far hence 

Is he, that doth to travellers such harmes?'* 

" He is," said he, " a man of great defence ; 

Expert in battell and in deedes of armes ; 

And more emboldned by the wicked charmes. 

With which his daughter doth him still support ; 

Having great lordships got and goodly farmes 

Through strong oppression of his powre extort ; 

By which he stil them holds, and keepes with strong ciTovL 

*' And dayly he his wrongs encreaseth more ; 
For never wight he lets to passe that way. 
Over his bridge, albee he rich or poore, 
But he him makes his passage-penny pay: 
Else he doth hold him backe or beat away. 
Thereto he hath a groome of evill guize, 
Whose scalp is bare, that bondage doth bewray. 
Which pols and pils the poore in piteous wize ; 
But he himselfe upon the rich doth tyrannize 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE, 645 

*' His name is higlit Pollente, rightly so. 

For that he is so puissant and strong, 

That with his powre he all doth over go, 

And makes them subiect to K 3 mighty wrong ; 

And some by sleight he eke doth underfong : 

For on a bridge he custometh to fight. 

Which is but narrow, but exceeding long ; 

And in the same are many trap-fals pight, 

Through which the rider do wne doth fall througlj oversight. 

" And underneath the same a river flowes. 

That is both swift and dangerous deepe withall; 

Into the which whomso he overthrowes. 

All destitute of helpe doth headlong fall; 

But he himselfe through practise usuall 

Lcapes forth into the floud, and there assaies 

His foe confused through his sodaine fall. 

That horse and man he equally dismaies. 

And either both them drownes, or trayterously slaies. 

" Then doth he take the spoile of them at will, 
And to his daughter brings, that dwells thereby : 
Who all that comes doth take, and therewith fill 
The coffers of her wicked threasury ; 
Which she with wrongs hath heaped up so hy 
That many princes she in wealth exceedes. 
And purchast all the countrey lying ny 
With the revenue of her plenteous meedes : 
Her name is Munera, agreeing with her deedes. 

" Thereto she is full faire, and rich attired. 
With golden hands and silver feete beside, 
That many lords. have her to wife desired: 
But she them all despiseth for great pride." 
" Now by my life," sayd he, " and God to guide, 
None other way will I this day betake, 
But by that bridge whereas he doth abide : 
Therefore me thither lead." 'No more he spake. 
But thitherward forthright his ready way did make 

Unto the place he came within a while, 

Where on the bridge he ready armed saw 

The Sarazin, away ting for some spoile : 

Who as they to the passage gan to draw, 

A villaine to them came with s'cuU all raw. 

That passage-money did of them require. 

According to the custome of their law : 

To whom he aunswerd wroth, " loe there thy hire ;** 

And with that word him strooke, that straight he did expiro. 



646 THB PAEEIB QUEENB. 

Wliicli when tlie pagan saw lie wexed wroth. 
And straight himself e unto the fight addrest ; 
]Sre was Sir Artej^all behinde : so both 
Together ran with ready speares In rest. 
IRight in the midst, whereas they brest to brest 
Should meete, a trap was letten downe to fall 
Into the floud : streight leapt the carle unblest. 
Well weening that his foe was falne withall : 
But he was well aware, and leapt before his falL 

There being both together in the floud. 

They each at other tyrannously flew ; 

"Ne ought the water cooled their whot bloud, 

But rather in them kindled choler new : 

[But there the Paynim, who that use well knew 

To fight in water, great advantage had, 

That oftentimes him nigh he overthrew : 

And eke the courser whereuppon he rad 

Could swim like to a fish whiles he his backe bestrai 

Which oddes whenas Sir Artegall espide, 

He saw no way but close with him in hast ; 

And to him^ driving strongly downe the tide 

Uppon his iron coller griped fast, 

That with the straint his wesand nigh he brast. 

There they together strove and struggled long, 

[Either the other from his steed to cast ; 

"Ne ever Artegall his griple strong 

[For any thinge wold slacke, but still upon him hong. 

As when a dolphin and a sele are met 

In the wide champian of the ocean plaine. 

With cruell chaufe their courages they whet. 

The maysterdome of each by force to gaine. 

And dreadful! battaile twixt them do darraine ; 

They snuf, they snort, they bounce, they rage, they rore, 

That all the sea, disturbed with their traine. 

Doth frie with fome above the surges hore : 

Such was betwixt these two the troublesome uprore. 

So Artegall at length him forst forsake 

His horses backe for dread of being drownd. 

And to his handy swin^.ming him betake. 

Eftsoones himselfe he from his hold unbownd. 

And then no ods at all in him he fownd ; 

Por Artegall in swimming skilfull was, 

And durst the depth of any water sownd. 

So ought each knight, that use of perill has. 

In swimming be expert, through waters force to pas. 



THE FAEKIE QUEENE. ^^' 

Then very donbtfull was the warres event, 

Uncertaine whether had the better side : 

For both were skild in that experiment, 

And both in armes well traind and throughly tride. 

But Artegall was better breath'd beside, 

And towards th* end grew greater in his might. 

That his faint foe no longer could abide 

His puissance, ne beare himselfe upright ; 

But from the water to the land betooke his flight. 

But Artegall pursewd him still so neare 

With bright Chrysaor in his cruell hand. 

That, as his head he gan a litle reare 

Above the brincke to tread upon the land. 

He smote it off, that tumbling on the strand 

It bit the earth for very fell despight, 

And gnashed with his teeth, as if he band 

High God, whose goodnesse he despaired guight,^ 

Or curst the hand which did that vengeance on him dight. 

His corps was carried downe along the lee. 

Whose waters with his filthy bloud it stayned: 

But his blasphemous head, that all might see. 

He pitcht upon a pole on high ordayned ; 

Where many years it afterwards remaynedf 

To be a mirrour to all mighty men, 

In whose right hands great power is contayned. 

That none of them the feeble over-ren, 

But alwaies doe their powre within iust compasse pen. 

That done, imto the castle he did wend. 

In which the Paynims daughter did abide. 

Guarded of many which did her defend : 

Of whom he entrance sought, but was denide. 

And with reprochfull blasphemy defide, 

Beaten with stones downe from the battilment. 

That he was forced to withdraw aside ; 

And bad his servant Talus to invent 

Which way he enter might. without endangerment. 

Eftsoones his page drew to the castle gate. 

And with his iron flale at it let flie. 

That all the warders it did sore amate. 

The which ere-while spake so reprochfully, 

And made them stoupe, that looked earst so hie. 

Yet still he bet and bounst uppon the dore. 

And thundred stokes theron so hideouslie. 

That all the peece he shaked from the flore. 

And filled all the house with feare and great uprore. 



648 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

"With noise wliereof tlie lady forth appeared 

Uppon the castle wall; and, when she saw 

The daungerous state in which she stood, she feared 

The sad effect of her neare overthrow ; 

And gan intreat that iron man below 

To cease his outrage, and him faire besought ; 

Sith neither force of stpnes which they did throw, 

[Nor powr of charms, which she against him wrought 

Might otherwise prevaile, or make him cease for ought. 

Hut, whenas yet she saw him to proceede 

Unmov'd with praiers or with piteous thought. 

She ment him to corrupt with goodly meede ; 

And causde great sackes with endlesse riches fraught 

Unto the battilment to be upbrought, 

And powred forth over the castle wall. 

That she might win some time, though dearly bought, 

Whilest he to gathering of the gold did fall ; 

But he was nothing mov'd nor tempted therewithall : 

But still continu'd his assault the more, ^ 

And layd on load with his huge yron flaile. 

That at the length he has yrent the dore 

And made way for his maister to assaile : 

Who being entred, nought did them availe 

For wight against his powre themselves to reare : 

Each one did flie ; their hearts began to fade ; 

And hid themselves in corners here and there ; 

And eke their dame halfe dead did hide herself for feare. 

Long they her sought, yet no where could they finde her. 

That sure they ween'd she was escapt away : 

But Talus, that could like a lime-hound winde her. 

And all things secrete wisely could bewray. 

At length found out whereas she hidden lay 

Under an heape of gold : thence he her drew 

By the faire lockes, and fowly did array 

Withouten pitty of her goodly hew. 

That Artegall himselfe her seemelesse plight did rew. 

Yet for no pitty would he change the course 

Of iustice, which in Talus hand did lye ; 

Who rudely hayld her forth without remorse. 

Still holding up her suppliant hands on hye. 

And kneeling at his feete submissively : 

But he her suppliant hands, those hands of gold# 

And eke her feete, those feete of silver Irye, 

Which sought unrighteousnesse, and iustice sold, 

Chopt off, and nayld on high, that all might them behold. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 549 

Herselfe tlien tooke lie by tlie sclender wast 

In vaine loud cryin;^, and into the flood 

Over the castle wall adowne her cast, 

And there her drowned in the dirty mud : 

But the strearae washt away her guilty blood. 

Thereafter all that mucky pelfe he tooke, 

The spoile of peoples evil gotten good, 

The which her sire had scrap't by hooke and crooke. 

And burning all to ashes powr'd it down the brooke. 

And lastly all that castle quite he raced, 

Even from the sole of his foundation, 

And all the hewen stones thereof defaced. 

That there mote be no hope of reparation, 

Nor memory thereof to any nation. 

All which when Talus throughly had perfourme J, 

Sir Artegall undid the evil fashion. 

And wicked customes of that bridge refourmed : 

Which done, unto his former iourney he retourned. 

In which they measured mickle weary way. 
Till that at length nigh to the sea they drew; 
By which as they did travell on a day, 
They saw before them, far as they could vew, 
Full many people gathered in a crew ; 
Whose great assembly they did much admire; 
"For never there the like resort they knew. 
So towardes them they coasted, to enquire 
What thing so many nations met did there desire. 

There they beheld a mighty g^^'ant stand 

Upon a rocke, and holding forth on hie 

An huge great paire of ballance in his hand. 

With which he boasted in his surquedrie 

That all the world he would weigh equallie, 

If ought he had the same to counterpoys : 

For want whereof he weighed vanity, 

And fild his ballaunce full of idle toys : 

Yet was admired much of fooles, women, and boySo 

He sayd that he would all the earth uptake 

And all the sea, divided each from either : 

So would he of the fire one ballaunce make. 

And one of th' ayre, without or wind or wether : 

Then would he ballaunce heaven and hell together. 

And all that did within them all containe ; 

Of all whose weight he would not misse a fether: 

And looke what surplus did of each remaine, 

He would to bis owne part restore the same againe. 



550 THE FAEBIE QUEENB. 

For wliy, lie sayd, they all unequall were. 
And had encroched upon otbers share ; 
Like as the sea (which plaine he shewed there) 
Had worne the earth ; so did the fire the aire ; 
So all the rest did others parts empaire : 
And so were realmes and nations run awry. 
All which he undertooke for to repaire, 
In sort as they were formed aunciently ; 
And all things would reduce unto equality. 

Therefore the vulgar did about him flocke, 

And cluster thicke unto his leasings vaine ; 

Like foolish flies about an hony-crocke ; 

In hope by him great benefite to gaine. 

And uncontrolled freedome to obtaine. 

All which when Artegall did see and heare. 

How he misled the simple peoples traine, 

In sdeignfull wize he drew unto him neare. 

And thus unto him spake, without regard or feare ; 

" Thou, that presum*st to weigh the world anew. 

And all things to an equall to restore, 

Instead of right me seemes great wrong dost shew. 

And far above thy forces pitch to sore : 

For, ere thou limit what is lesse or more 

In every thing, thou oughtest first to know 

What was the poyse of every part of yore : 

And looke then, how much it doth overflow 

Or faile thereof, so much is more then iust to trow. 

" For at the first they all created were ^ 

In goodly measure by their Makers might ; 

And weighed out in ballaunces so nere, 

That not a dram was missing of their right : 

The earth was in the middle centre pight. 

In which it doth immoveable abide, 

Hemd in with waters like a wall in sightj ^ 

And they with aire, that not a drop can slide : 

Al which the heavens containe, and in their courses guide. 

' Such heavenly iustice doth among them raine. 

Til at every one doe know their certaine bound ; 

In which they doe these many yeares remaine, 

And mongst them al no change hath yet beene found : 

But if thou now shouldst weigh them new in pound, 

"VVe are not sure they would so long remaine : 

All change is peril lous, and all chaunce unsound. 

Therefore leave ofl^to weigh them all againe. 

Till we may be assur'd they shall their course retaine.^ 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 651 

" Thou foolislie elfe," said then, the gyant wroth, 

" Seest not how badly all things present bee. 

And each estate quite out of order goth ? ■ • 

The sea itselfe doest thou not plainely see 

Encroch uppon the land there under thee ? 

And th* earth itselfe how daily its increast. 

By all that dying to it turned be ? 

Were it not good that wrong were then surceast. 

And from the most that some were given, to the least? 

"Therefore I will throw downe these mountains hie. 

And make them levell with the lowly plaine, 

These towring rocks, which reach unto the skie, 

I will thrust downe into the deepest maine. 

And, as they were, them equalize againe. 

Tyrants, that make men subiect to their law, 

I will suppresse, that they no more may raine ; 

And lordings curbe that commons over-aw ; 

And all the wealth of rich men to the poore will draw." 

"Of things unseene how canst thou deeme aright," 

Then answered the righteous Artegall, 

** Sith thou misdeem'st so much of things in sight? 

What though the sea with waves continuall 

Doe eate the earth, it is no more at all ; 

We is the earth the lesse, or loseth ought : 

For whatsoever from one place doth fall 

Is with the tyde unto another brought : 

Por there is nothing lost, that may De found if sought, 

" Likewise the earth is not augmented more 

By all that dying into it doe fade ; 

For of the earth they formed were of yore : 

However gay their blossome or their blade. 

Doe flourish now, they into dust shall vade. 

What wrong then is it if that when they die 

They turne to that whereof they first were made ? 

All in the powre of their great Maker lie : 

AU creatures must obey the voice of the Most Hie. 

** They live, they die, like as He doth ordaine, 

Ne ever any asketh reason why. 

The hils doe not the lowly dales disdaine ; 

The dales doe not the lofty hils envy. 

He maketh kings to sit in soverainty; 

He maketh subiccts to their powre obay; 

He pulleth downe. He setteth up on hy; 

He gives to this, from that He takes away: 

For all we have is His : what Ho hst doe, He may^ 



552 THE PAEEIB QUEENE. 

" Whatever tWng is done, by Him is donne, 

"Ne any may His mighty will withstand ; 

Ne any may His soveraine power shonne, 

IsTe loose that He hath bound with stedfast hand : 

In Taine therefore doest thou now take in hand 

To call to count, or weigh His workes anew, 

Whose counsels depth thou canst not understand ; 

Sith of things subiect to thy daily vew 

Thou doest not know the causes nor their courses dew. 

" For take thy ballaunce, if thou be so wise. 

And weigh the win de that under heaven doth blow; 

Or weigh the light that in the east doth rise ; 

Or weigh the thought that from mans mind doth flow: 

But if the weight of these thou canst not show, 

Weigh but one word which from thy lips doth fall : 

For how canst thou those greater secrets know, 

That doest not know the least thing of them all ? 

lU can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.** 

Therewith the gyant much abashed sayd 

That he of little things made reckoning light; 

Yet the least word that ever could be layd 

Within his ballaunce he could way aright. 

" Which is," said he, " more heavy then in weight. 

The right or wroug, the false or else the trew?" 

He answered that he would try it streight : 

So he the words into his ballaunce threw; 

But streight the winged words out of his ballaunce flew. 

Wroth wext he then, and sayd that words were light, 

"Ne would within his ballaunce well abide : 

But he could iustly weigh the wrong or right. 

" Well then," sayd Artegall, " let it be tridez 

First in one ballance set the true aside." 

He did so first, and then the false he layd ^ 

In th' other scale ; but still it downe did slide. 

And by no meane could in the weiojht be stayd : 

For by no meanes the false will with the truth be wayd. 

"Kow take the right likewise," said Artegale, 

" And counterpeise the same with so much wrong," 

So first the right he put into one scale ; 

And then the gyant strove with puissance strong 

To fill the other scale with so much wrong : 

But all the wrongs that he therein could* lay 

Might not it peise ; yet did he labour long, 

And swat, and chaufd, and proved every way: 

Yet all the wrongs could not a liUe right downe way. 



THE PJLESIE QUEENB. 553 

WTiicli wlien he saw, he neatly grew in rap:e. 

And almost would his balances have broken : 

But Artegall him fairely gan asswage, 

And said, *' Be not upon thy balance wroken ; 

For they do nought but right or wrong betoken ; 

But in the mind the doome of right must bee : 

And so likewise of words, the which be spoken. 

The eare must be the ballance, to decree 

And iudge, whether with truth or falshood they agree. 

" But set the truth and set the right aside, 
Por they with wrong or falshood will not fare. 
And put two wrongs together to be tride. 
Or else two falses, of each equal share. 
And then together doe tliera both compare j 
For truth is one, and right is ever one.'* 
So did he ; and then plaine it did appeare. 
Whether of them the greater were attone: 
But right sat in the middest of the beame alono. 

But he the right from thence did thrust away; 

For it was not the right which he did seeke : 

But rather strove extremities to way, 

Th' one to diminish, th* other for to eeke : 

For of the meane he greatly did misleeke. 

Whom when so lewdly minded Talus found, 

Approaching nigh unto him cheeke by cheeke, 

He shouldered him from off the higher ground, 

And down the rock him throwing in the sea him drouni 

Like as a ship, whom cruell tempest drives 

Upon a rocke with horrible dismay. 

Her shattered ribs in thousand peeces rives 

And spoyling all her geares and goodly ray 

Does make herselfe misfortunes piteous pray: 

So downe the cliffe the wretched gyant tumbled ; 

His battred ballances in peeces lay. 

His timbered bones all broken rudely rumbled : 

So was the high-aspyring with huge mine humbled. 

That when the people, which had there about 
Long wayted, saw his sudden desolation, 
They gan to gather in tumultuous rout. 
And mutinin^ to stirre up civill faction 
For certaine losse of so great expectation: 
For well they hoped to have got great good. 
And wondrous riches by his innovation : 
Therefore resolving to revenge his blood. 
They rose in armes, and all in battell order stooi 



654 THE FAEEIE QXTEENE. 

Wliich lawlesse multitude liim comming to 

In warlike wise when Artegall did vew, 

He much was troubled, ne wist what to do : 

For loth he was his noble hands t' embrew 

In the base blood of such a rascall crew; 

And otherwise, if that he should retire, 

He fear'd lest they with shame would him purse w: 

Therefore he Talus to them sent t' inquire 

The cause of their array, and truce for to desire. 

But soone as they hini nigh approching spide. 

They gan with all their weapons him assay. 

And rudely stroke at him on every side; 

Yet nought they could him hurt, ne ought dismay: 

But when at them he with his flaile gan lay, 

He like a swarm of flyes them overthrew: 

IsTe any of them durst come in his way, 

But here and there before his presence flew, 

And hid themselves in holes and bushes from Lis vewj 

As when a faulcon hath with nimble flight 
Flowne at a flush of ducks foreby the brooke, ^ 
The trembling foule dismayd with dreadfuU sight 
Of death, the which them almost overtooke. 
Doe hide themselves from her astonying looke 
Amongst the flags and covert round about. 
When Talus saw they all the field forsooke. 
And none appear'd of all that raskall rout, 
To Artegall tie turn'd and went with him throughout. 



CANTO ni. 

The spousals of faire Florimell, 
"Where turney many knights: 

There Braggadochio is uncas'd 
In all the ladies sights. 

Aetee long storm es and tempests over-blowne 
The sunne at length his ioyous face doth clears: 
So whenas fortune all her spight hath showne, '■« 
Some blisfull houres at last must needes appeare ; 
Else should afflicted wights oft-times despeire. 
So comes it now to Florimell by tourne. 
After long sorrowes sufiered whyleare, ^ 
In which captiv'd she many moneths did moume. 
To tast of ioy, and to wont pleasures to retourne : 



THE FAEBIB QUEENE. 555 

Who being freed from Protens cruell band 

By Marinell was unto him affide, 

And by him brought againe to Faerie Land ; 

Where he her spous'd, and made his ioyous bride. 

The time and place was blazed farre and wide,^ 

And solemne feastes and giusts ordain'd therefore : 

To which there did resort from every side 

Of lords and ladies infinite great store ; 

Ne any knight was absent that brave courage bore. 

To tell the glorie of the feast that day, 

The goodly service, the devicefull sights, 

The bridegromes state, the brides most rich aray. 

The pride of ladies, and the worth of Irnights, 

The royal 1 banquets, and the rare delights, 

Were worke fit for an herauld, not for me : 

But for so much as to my lot here lights, 

That with this present treatise doth agree, 

True vertue to advance, shall here recounted boo. 

When all men had with full satietie 

Of meates and drinkes their appetites suiSz'd, 

To deedes of armes and proofe of chevalrie ^ 

They gan themselves addresse, full rich aguiz'd. 

As each one had his furnitures deviz'd. 

And first of all issu'd Sir Marinell, 

And with him sixe knights more, which enterpriz*d 

To chalenge all in right of Florimell, 

And to maintaine that she aR others did excell. 

The first of them was hight Sir Orimont, 

A noble knight, and tride in hard assayes : 

The second had to nanie Sir Bellisont, 

But second unto none in prowesse prayse ; 

Tlie third was Brunell, famous in his dayes : 

The fourth Ecastor, of exceeding might : 

The fift Armeddan, skild in lovely layes i 

The sixt was Lansack, a redoubted knight : 

All sixe well seene in armes, and prov'd in many a fight. 

And them against came all that list to giust, 

From every coast and countrie under sunne : 

None was debard, but all had leave that lust. 

The trompets sound ; then all together ronne. 

Full many deeds of armes that day were donne ; 

And many knights unhorst, and many wounded, 

As fortune fell ; yet little lost or wonne : 

But all that day the greatest prayse redounded 

To Marinell, whose name the heralds loud resounded. 



656 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Tlie second day, so soone as morrow liglit 

Appear'd in heaven, into the field they came. 

And there all day continew'd cruell fight. 

With divers fortune fit for such a game, 

In which all strove with perill to winne fame; 

Yet whether side was victor note be ghest : 

[But at the last the trompets did proclame 

That Marinell that day deserved best. 

So they disparted were, and all men went to rest. 

The third day came, that should due tryall lend 
Of all the rest ; and then this warlike crew 
Together met, of all to make an end. 
There Marinell great deeds of armes did shew; 
• And through the thickest hke a lyon flew, 
Pashing off helmes, and ryving plates asonder; 
That every one his daunger did eschew: 
So terribly his dreadful! strokes did thonder, 
That aU men stood amaz'd, and at his might did wonden 

But what on earth can alwaies happie stand? 
The greater prowesse greater perils find. 
So farre he past amongst his enemies band. 
That they have him enclosed so behind. 
As by no meanes he can himselfe outwind: 
And now perforce they have him prisoner taken; 
And now they doe with captive bands him bind ; 
And now they lead him hence, of all forsaken, 
Unlesse some succour had in time him overtaken. 

It fortun'd whylest they were thus ill beset. 

Sir Artegall into the tilt-yard came. 

With Braggadochio, whom he lately met 

Upon the way with that his snowy dame : 

Wliere when he understood by common fame, 

"What evil hap to Marinell betid. 

He much was mov'd at so unworthie shame. 

And streight that boaster prayd, with whom he rid, 

To change his shield with him, to be the better hid. 

So forth he went, and soone them overhent. 
Where they were leadim? Marinell away; 
Whom he assayld with dreadlesse hardiment, 
And forst the burden of their prize to stay. 
They were an hundred knights of that array; 
or which th' one halfe upon himselfe did set. 
The other stayd behind to gard the pra^^: 
But he ere long the former fiftie bet ; 
And from the other fiftie soone the prisoner fet. 



THE FAEEIB QtJEENE. 657 

So backe lie broupjlit Sir Marinell againe ; 

Whom having quickly arm'd againe anew. 

They both together ioyned might and maine. 

To set afresh on all the other crew: 

Whom with sore havocke soone they overthrew* 

And chased quite out of the field, that none 

Against them durst his head to perill shew. 

So were they left lords of the field alone : 

So Marinell by him was rescu'd from his fone. 

Which when he had perform'd, then backe againe 

To Braggadochio did his shield restore : ^ 

Who all this while behind him did remaine. 

Keeping there close with him in pretious store 

That his false ladie, as ye heard afore. 

Then did the trompets sound, and iudges rose, 

And all these knights, which that day armour bore. 

Came to the open hall to listen whose 

The honour of the prize should be adiudged by those. 

And thether also came in open sight 
Fayre Florimell into the common hall. 
To greet his guerdon unto every knight, 
And best to him to whom the best should fall. 
Then for that stranger knight they loud did call. 
To whom that day they should the girlond yield ; 
Who came not forth : but for Sir Artegall 
Came Braggadochio, and did shew his shield. 
Which bore the sunne brode blazed in a golden field. 

The sight whereof did all with gladnesse fiU : 
So unto him they did addeeme the prise 
Of all that tryumph. Then the trompets shriU 
Don Braggadochios name resounded thrise : 
So courage lent a cloke to cowardise : 
And then to him came fayrest Elorimell, 
And goodly gan to greete his brave emprise. 
And thousand thankes him yeeld, that had so well 
Approv'd that day that she all others did excell. 

To whom the boaster, that all knights did blot, 

With proud disdaine did scornefull answere make, 

That what he did that day, he did it not 

For her, but for his owne dcare ladies sake. 

Whom on his perill he did undertake 

Both her and eke all others to cxccll : 

And further did uncomely speaches crake. 

Much did his words the gentle ladie quell, 

And turn'd aside for shame to heare what he did tell. 



558 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

Then forth, he brought his snowy Florimele, 
Whom Trompart had in keeping there beside. 
Covered from peoples gazement with a vele : 
Whom when discovered they had throughly eide, . 
With great amazement they were stupefi.de ; 
And said, that surely Florimell it was. 
Or if it were not Florimell so tride, 
That Florimell herselfe she then did pas. 
So feeble skill of perfect things the vulgar has. 

Which whenas Marinell beheld likewise. 

He was therewith exceedingly dismay d ; 

ISfe wist he what to thinke, or to devise : 

But, like as one whom feends had made affrayd. 

He long astonisht stood, ne ought he sayd, 

!N"e ought he did, but with fast fixed eies 

He gazed still upon that snowy mayd, 

Wliom ever as he did the more avize. 

The more to be true Florimell he did surmize. 

As when two sunnes appeare in th* azure skye. 

Mounted in Phoebus charet fiorie bright, 

Both darting forth faire beames to each mans eye. 

And both adorn'd with lampes of flaming light; 

All that behold so strange prodigious sight, 

Not knowing natures worke, nor what to weene. 

Are rapt with wonder and with rare aflPright. - 

So stood Sir Marinell when he had scene 

The semblant of this false by his faire beauties queene. 

All whicb when Artegall, who all this while 

Stood in the preasse close covered, well advewed. 

And saw that boasters pride and gracelesse guile. 

He could no longer beare, but forth issewed. 

And unto all himselfe there open shewed. 

And to the boaster said ; " Thou losell base. 

That hast with borrowed plumes thyselfe endowed. 

And others worth with leasings doest deface. 

When they are all restor'd thou shalt rest in disgrace. 

'* That shield, which thou doest beare, was it indeed 
Which this dayes honour sav'd to Marinell ; 
But not that arme, nor thou the man I reed. 
Which didst that service unto Florimell : 
For proofe shew forth thy sword, and let it tell 
What strokes, what dreadfull stoure, it stird this dayi 
Or shew the wounds which unto thee befell ; 
Or shew the sweat with which thou diddest sway 
So sharpe a batteU, that so many did dismay. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 559 

" But tills the sword wliicli wroup:Kt those cruell stounds. 

And this the arme the which that shield did beare. 

And these the signs,'* (so shewed forth his wounds,) 

•* By which that glorie gotten doth appeare. 

As for this ladie, which he sheweth here. 

Is not (I wager) Florimell at all ; 

But some fayre franion, fit for such a fere. 

That by misfortune in his hand did fall." 

For proofe whereof he bad them Florimell forth call. 

So forth the noble ladie was ybrought, 

Adorn'd with honor and all comely grace : 

Whereto her bashfull shamefastnesse ywrought 

A great increase in her faire blushing face ; 

As roses did with lillies interlace : 

For of those words, the which that boaster threw. 

She inly yet conceived great disgrace : 

Whom whenas all the people such did vew. 

They shouted loud, and signes of gladnesse all did shew. 

Then did he set her by that snowy one. 

Like the true saint beside the image set ; 

Of both their beauties to make paragone 

And triall, whether should the honor get. 

Streightway, so soone as both together met, 

Th* enchaunted damzell vanisht into nought : 

Her snowy substance melted as with heat, 

Ne of that goodly hew remayned ought. 

But th' emptie girdle which about her wast was wrought. 

As when the daughter of Thaura antes faire 

Hath in a watry cloud displayed wide 

Her goodly bow, which paints the liquid ayre; 

That all men wonder at her colours pride j 

All suddenly, ere one can looke aside. 

The glorious picture vanisheth away, 

Ne any token doth thereof abide : 

So did this ladies goodly forme decay. 

And into nothing goe, ere one could it bewray. 

Which whenas all that present were beheld. 

They stricken were with great astonishment, 

And their faint harts with senselesse horrour queld. 

To see the thing, that seem'd so excellent. 

So stolen from their fancies wonderment; 

That what of it became none understood : 

And Braggadochio selfe with dreriment 

So daunted was in his despcyring mood, 

That like a lifelesse corse immoveable he stoodt 



560 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

But Artegall that golden belt uptooke, 
The which of all her spoyle was onely left; 
Which was not hers, as many it mistooke, 
Eut Florimells owne girdle, from her reft 
While she'was flying, like a weary weft, 
Prom that foule monster which did her compell 
To perills great ; which he unbuckling eft 
Presented to the fayrest Florimell ; 
Who round about her tender wast it fitted welL 

Pull many ladies often had assayd 

About their middles that faire belt to knit; 

And many a one suppos'd to be a mayd : 

Yet it to none of all their loynes would fit. 

Till Florimell about her fastned it. 

Such power it had, that to no womans wast 

"By any skill or labour it would fit, 

Unlesse that she were continent and chast; 

But it would lose or breake, that many had disgrasfc, 

Whilest thus they busied were bout Plorimell, 
And boastfuU Braggadochio to defame, 
Sir Guyon, as by fortune then befell, 
Porth from the thickest preasse of people came, 
His owne good steed, which he had stolne, to clamo; 
And, th* one hand seizing on his golden bit. 
With th' other drew his sword ; lor with the same 
He meant the thiefe there deadly to have smit : 
And, had he not bene held, he nought had fay Id of it. 

Thereof great hurly burly moved was 
Throughout the hall for that same warlike horse: 
Por Braggadochio would not let him pas ; 
And Guyon would him al gates have perforse. 
Or it approve upon his carrion corse. 
Which troublous stirre when Artegall perceived. 
He nigh them drew to stay th' avengers forse ; 
And gan inquire how was that steed bereaved. 
Whether by might extort, or else by slight deceaved. 

Who all that piteous storie, which befell 
About that wofull couple which were slaine. 
And their young bloodie babe to him gan tell; 
With whom whiles he did in the wood remaine. 
His horse purloyned was by subtill traine; 
Por which he chalenged the thiefe to fight: 
But he for nought could him thereto constraine; 
Por as the death he hated such despight. 
And rather had to lose than trie in armes his rightt 



THE FAEEIE QXJ^EENE. 661 

Wliicli Artegall well hearing, (tlioiigli no more 
By law of armes there neede ones right to trie. 
As was the wont of warUke knights of yore. 
Then that his foe should him the field denie,) 
Yet further right by tokens to descrie, 
He askt, what privie tokens he did beare. 
" If that," said Guyon, " may you satisfie, 
Within his mouth a blacke spot doth appeare, 
Shapt like a horses shoe, who list to seeke it there.** 

Whereof to make due tryall one did take 

The horse in hand within his mouth to looke : 

But with his heeles so sorely he him strake, 

That aU his ribs he quite in peeces broke. 

That never word from that day forth he spoke. 

Another, that would seeme to have more wit, 

Him by the bright embrodered hedstall tooke : m 

But by the shoulder him so sore he bit. 

That he him maymed quite, and all his shoulder split. 

"Ne he his mouth would open unto wight, 
Untill that Guyon selfe unto him spake. 
And called Brigadore, (so was he hight,) 
Whose voice so isoone as he did undertake, 
Eftsoones he stood as still as any stake. 
And sufFred all his secret marke to see ; 
And, whenas he him nam'd, for ioy he brake 
His bands, and followed him with gladfull glee. 
And frisk t, and flong aloft, and louted low on knee. 

Thereby Sir Artegall did plaine areed. 

That unto him the horse belong'd ; and saj^d, 

" Lo there, Sir Guyon, take to you the steed, 

As he with golden saddle is arayd ; 

And let that losell, plainely now displayd, 

Hence fare on foot, till he an horse have gayned.** 

But the proud boaster gan his doome upbrayd. 

And him revil'd, and rated, and disdayned. 

That iudgement so uniust against him had ordayned. 

Much was the knight incenst with his lewd word. 

To have revenged that his villeny ; 

And thrice did lay his hand upon his sword. 

To have him slaine, or dearely doen aby : 

But Guyon did his choler pacify. 

Saying, " Sir knight, it would dishonour bee 

To you that are our iudge of equity, 

Te wreake your wrath on such a carle as hee : 

It's punishment enough that all his shame doe see.** 



562 THE PAISEIE QXTEENB* 

So did lie mitigate Sir Artegall ; 

But Talus by the backe the boaster bent. 

And drawing him out of the open hall 

Upon him did inflict this punishment: 

First he his beard did shave, and fowly shent ; 

Then from him reffc his shield, and it renverst, 

And blotted out his armes with falshood blent; 

And himselfe bafluld, and his armes unherst ; 

And broke his sword in twaine, and all his armour sperst. 

The whiles his guilefull groome was fled away; 

But vaine it was to thinke from him to flie : 

"Who overtaking him did disaray, 

And all his face deform'd with infamie, 

And out of court him scourged openly. 

So ought all faytours, that true knighthood shame, 

And arme^ishonour with base villanie, 

Prom all brave knights be banisht with defame : 

Por oft their lewdness blotteth good deserts with blame. 

"Now when these counterfeits were thus uncased 

Out of the foreside of their forgerie. 

And in the sight of all men cleane disgraced. 

All gan to iest and gibe full merilie ^ 

At the remembrance of their knaverie: 

Ladies can laugh at ladies, knights at knights. 

To thinke with how great vaunt of braverie 

He them abused through his subtill shghts, 

And what a glorious shew he made in all their sights. 

There leave we them in pleasure and repast, 
Spending their ioyous dayes and gladful nights. 
And taking usurie of time forepast, 
With all deare delices and rare delights. 
Pit for such ladies and such lovely knights : 
And turne we here to this faire furrowes end 
Our wearie yokes, to gather fresher sprights. 
That, whenas time to Artegall shall tend. 
We on his first adventxire may him forward send. 



THE FAEBIE QUSENB. 563 



CANTO IV. 



Artegall dealeth right betwixt 

Two brethren that doe strive : 
Saves Terpine from the gal low tree^ 

And doth from death reprive. 

Whoso upon liimselfe will take the skill 

True iustice unto people to divide, 

Had need have mightie hands for to fulj&ll 

That which he doth with righteous doome decide. 

And for to maister wrong and puissant pride : 

For vaine it is to deeme of things aright. 

And makes wrong doers iustice to deride, ^ 

Unlesse it be perform'd with dreadlesse might : 

For powre is the right hand of iustice truely hight. 

Therefore whylome to knights of great emprise 
The charge of iustice given was in trust. 
That they might execute her iudgements wise, 
And with their might beat downe licentious lust. 
Which proudly did impugne her sentence iust ; 
Whereof no braver president this day 
Bemaines on earth, preserv'd from yron rust 
Of rude oblivion and long times decay, 
Then this of Artegall, which here we have to say. 

Who having lately left that lovely payre, 

Enlincked fast in wedlockes loyall bond, 

Bold Marinell with Florimell the fayre. 

With whom great feast and goodly glee he fond. 

Departed from the castle of the strond 

To follow his adventures first intent. 

Which long agoe he taken had in hond : 

Ne wight with him for his assistance went. 

But that great yron groome, his gard and government : 

With whom, as he did passe by the sea-shore. 

He chaunst to come whereas two comely squires. 

Both brethren whom one wombe together bore. 

But stirred up with different desires. 

Together strove, and kindled wrathfull fires : 

And them beside two seemely damzels stood. 

By all meanes seeking to asswage their ires, 

Now with faire words ; but words did little good ; [mood. 

Now with sharpe threats; but threats the more increast their 



664i THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

And there before tliem stood a coffer strong 
Fast bound on every side witli iron bands. 
But seeming to have suffred mickle wrong, 
Either by being wreckt uppon the sands, 
Or being carried farre from forrainc lands : 
Seem'd that for it these squires at ods did fall, 
And bent against themselves their cruell hands ; 
But evermore those damzels did forestall 
Their furious encounter, and their fiercenesse pall. 

But firmely fixt they were with dint of sword 

And battaOes doubtfull proofe their rights to try; 

Ne other end their fury would afford. 

But what to them fortune would iustify: 

So stood they both in readinesse thereby 

To ioyne the combate with cruell intent: 

When Artegall arriving happily 

Did stay awhile their greedy bickorment. 

Till he had questioned the cause of their dissent. 

To whom the elder did this aunswere frame ; 

" Then weet ye, sir, that we two brethren be. 

To whom our sire, Milesio by name, 

Did equally bequeath his lands in fee. 

Two islands, which ye there before you see 

Not farre in sea ; of which the one appeares 

But like a httle mount of small degree ; 

Yet was as great and wide ere many yeares, 

As that same other isle, that greater bredth now beares. 

" But tract of time, that all things doth decay, 

And this devouring sea, that nought doth spare. 

The most part of my land hath washt away, 

And throwne it up unto my brothers share : 

So his encreased, but mine did empaire. 

Before which time I lov'd as was my lot,^ 

That further mayd, hight Philtera the faire, 

With whom a goodly doure I should have got, 

And should have ioyned bene to her in wedlocks knot, 

*' Then did my younger brother Amidas 

Love that same other damzell, Lucy bright, 

To whom but little dowre allotted was : 

Her vertue was the dowre that did delight: 

What better do\^T:'e can to a dame be hight? 

But now, when Philtra saw my lands decay 

And former livel'od fayle, she left me quight, 

And to my brother did elope streightway: 

Who, taking her from me, his owne love left astray. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE, 5G5 

" Ske, seeing tlien herselfe forsaken so, 
Through, dolorous despaire which she conceyved, 
Into the sea herselfe did headlong throw, 
Thinking to have her griefe by death bereaved; 
Bat see how much her purjpose was deceived ! 
Whilest thus, amidst the billowes beating of her, 
Twixt life and death long to and fro she weave d. 
She chaunst un wares to light upon this coffer, 
Which to her in that daunger hope of life did offer. 

" The wretched mayd, that earst desir'd to die, 

Whenas the paine of death she tasted had. 

And but halfe scene his ugly visnomie, 

Gan to repent that she had beene so mad 

For any death to chaunge life, though most bad : 

And catching hold of this sea-beaten chest, 

(The lucky pylot of her passage sad,) 

After long tossing in the seas distrest. 

Her weary barke at last uppon mine isle did rest. 

" Where I by chaunce then wandring on the shore 

Did her espy, and through my good endevour 

From dreadfull mouth of death, which threatned sore 

Her to have swallow'd up, did helpe to save her. 

She then, in recompence of that great favour. 

Which I on her bestowd, bestowed on me 

The portion of that good which fortune gave her. 

Together with herselfe in dowry free ; -^ 

Both goodly portions, but of both the better she. 

** Yet in this coffer which she with her brought 
Great threasure sithence we did finde contaiued; 
Which as our owne we tooke, and so it thought ; 
Bat this same other damzell since hath fained 
That to herselfe that threasure appertained ; 
And that she did transport the same by sea, 
To bring it to her husband new ordained. 
But suiFred cruell shipwracke by the way z 
But, whether it be so or no, I cannot say. 

" But, whether it indeede be so or no. 
This doe I say, that whatso good or ill 
Or God, or fortune, unto me did throw, 
(Not wronging any other by my will,) 
I hold mine owne, and so will hold it still. 
And though my land he first did winne away, 
' Aiid then my love, (though now it little skill,) 
Yet my good lucke he shall not likewise pray; 
But I w2l it defend whilst ever that I may." 
25 



566 THE FAEBIE felTEENE, 

So having sayd, the younger did ensew ; 

" Full true it is whatso about our land 

My brother here declared hath to you: 

But not for it this ods twixt us doth stand, 

But for this threasure throwne uppon his strand ; 

Which well I prove, as shall appeare by triall, 

To be this maides with whom I fastned hand, 

Known by good markes and perfect good espiall : 

Therefore it ought be rendred her without deniall." 

When they thus ended had, the knight began; 

** Certes your strife were easie to accord. 

Would ye remit it to some righteous man/' 

**Unto yourselfe,'* said they, " we give our word. 

To bide that iudgement ye shall us afford.'* 

** Then for assurance to my doome to stand. 

Under my foote let each lay downe his sword ; 

And then you shall my sentence -understand." 

So each of them layd downe his sword out of his hand. 

Then Artegall thus to the younger sayd; 

** Now tell me, Amidas, if that ye may. 

Your brothers land the which the sea hath layd 

Unto your part, and pluckt from his away, 

"By what good right doe you withhold this day?" 

** What other right," quoth he, " should you esteeme, 

But that the sea it to my share did lay ?" 

** Your right is good," sayd he, " and so I deeme, 

That what the sea unto you sent your owne should seeme/* 

Then turning to the elder, thus he sayd; 

** Now, Bracidas, let this likewise be showne ; 

Your brothers threasure, which from him is strayd, 

Being the dowry of his wife well knowne, 

By what right doe you claime to be your owne ?" 

" What other right," quoth he, " should you esteeme. 

But that the sea hath it unto me throwne ?" 

'* Your right is good," sayd he, " and so I deeme. 

That what the sea unto you sent your owne should seeme. 

" For equall right in equall things doth stand : 
For what the mighty sea hath once possest, 
And plucked quite from all possessors hand. 
Whether by rage of waves that never rest. 
Or else by wracke that wretches hath distrest. 
He may dispose by his imperiall might. 
As thing at randon left, to whom he list. 
So, Amidas, the land was yours first hight ; 
And so the threasure yours is, Bracidas, by right,* 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 567 

Wlien lie his sentence thus pronounced had. 

Both Amidas and Philtra were displeased ; 

But Bracidas and Lucy were right glad. 

And on the threasure by that iudgement seased. 

So was their discord by this doome appeased. 

And each one had his right. Then Artegall, 

Whenas their sharpe contention he had ceased. 

Departed on his way, as did befall, 

To follow his old quest, the which him forth did calL 

So, as he travelled uppon the way. 

He chaunst to come, where happily he spide 

A rout of many people farre away; 

To whom his course he hastily applide. 

To weete the cause of their assemblaunce wide : 

To whom when he approched neare in sight, 

(An uncouth sight, (he plainely then descride 

To be a troupe of women, warlike dight, 

With weapons in their hands, as ready for to fight : 

And in the midst of them he saw a knight, 

With both his hands behinde him pinnoed hard. 

And round about his necke an halter tight. 

And ready for the gallow tree prepard : 

His face was covered, and his head was bar*d. 

That who he was uneath was to descry; 

And with full heavy heart with them he far'd, 

Griev*d to the soule, and groning inwardly, 

That he of womens hands so base a death should dy. 

But they, like tyrants mercilesse, the more 

[Reioyced at his miserable case, 

And him reviled, and reproched sore 

With bitter taunts and termes of vile disgrace: 

Now whenas Artegall, arriv'd in place, 

Did aske what cause brought that man to decay, 

They round about him gan to swarm apace. 

Meaning on him their cruell hands to lay, 

And to have wrought un wares some villanous assay,- 

But he was soon aware of their ill minde. 

And drawing backe deceived their intent : 

Yet, though himselfe did shame on womankinde 

His mighty hand to shend, he Talus sent 

To wrecke on them their folhes hardyment : 

Who with few sowces of his yron flale 

Dispersed all their troupe incontinent. 

And sent them home to tell a piteous tale 

Of their value prowesse turned to their proper balet 



568 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

But that same wretclied man, ordaynd to die. 

They left behind them, glad to be so qnit: 

Him Talus tooke out of perplexitie. 

And horror of fowle death for knight unfit, 

Who more than losse of life ydreaded it; 

And, him restoring unto living light, 

So brought unto his lord, wliere he did sit 

Beholding all that womanish weake fight ; 

Whom soone as he beheld he knew, and thus behight ; 

*' Sir Turpine, haplesse man, what make you here ? 
Or have you lost yourselfe and your discretion. 
That ever in this wretched case ye were ? 
Or have ye yeelded you to proude oppression 
Of womens powre, that boast of mens subiectionP 
Or else what other deadly dismall day ^ 
Is falne on you by heavens hard direction. 
That ye were runne so fondly far astray 
As for to lead yourselfe unto your owne decay?** 

Much was the man confounded in his mind. 

Partly with shame, and partly with dismay. 

That all astonisht he himselfe did find. 

And little had for his excuse to say, 

But onely thus ; " Most haplesse well ye may 

Me iustly terme, that to this shame am^ brought, 

And made the scorne of knighthood this same day: 

But who can scape what his owne fate hath wrought? 

The worke of heavens will surpasseth humaine thought," 

"Bight true : but faulty men use oftentimes 

To attribute their folly unto fate, 

And lay on heaven the guilt of their owne crimes. 

But tell. Sir Terpin, ne let you amate 

Your misery, how fell ye in this state ?" 

" Then sith ye needs," quoth he, " will know my shamo, 

And all the ill which chaunst to me of late, 

I shortly will to you rehearse the same, 

In hopefye will not turne misfortune to my blame. 

" Being desirous (as all knights are woont) 

Through hard adventures deedes of armes to try. 

And after fame and honour for to hunt, 

I heard report that farre abrode did fly. 

That a proud amazon did late defy 

All the brave knights that hold of Maidenhead, 

And unto them wrought all the villany 

That she could forge in her malicious head, 

VYhich some hath put to shame, and many done be dead. 



THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 569 

'* The cause, they say, of tliis her cruell hate. 

Is for the sake of Bellodant the bold, 

To whom she bore most fervent love of late, 

And wooed him by all the waies she could : 

But, when she saw at last that he ne would 

For ought or nought be wonne unto her will. 

She turn'd her love to hatred manifold, 

And for his sake vow'd to doe all the ill 

Which she could doe to knights ; which now she doth fulfill. 

*' For all those knights, the which by force or guile 
She doth subdue, she fowly doth entreate : 
First, she doth them of warlike armes despoile. 
And cloth in womens weedes ; and then with threat 
Doth them compell to worke, to earne their meat. 
To spin, to card, to sew, to wash, to wring ; 
"Ne doth she give them other thing to eat 
But bread and water or like feeble thing ; 
Them to disable from revenge adventuring. 

" But if through stout disdaine of manly mind 

Any her proud observaunce will withstand, 

Uppon that gibbet, which is there behind, 

She causeth them be hang'd up out of hand; 

In which condition I right now did stand: 

For, being overcome by her in fight, 

And put to that base service of her band, 

I rather chose to die in lives despight, 

Then lead that shamefull life, unworthy of a knight.'* 

" How hight that amazon," sayd Artegall, 
"And where and how far hence does she abide?" 
"Her name," quoth he, " they Hadigund doe call, 
A princesse of great powre and greater pride. 
And queene of amazons, in armes well tride 
And sundry battels, which she hath achieved 
With great successe, that her hath glorifide, 
And made her famous, more then is believed ; ^ 
jN"e would I it have ween'd had I not late it prieved." 

" Now sure," said he, " and by the faith that I 

To Maydenhead and noble knighthood owe, 

I will not rest till I her might doe trie. 

And venge the shame that she to knights doth show. 

Therefore, Sir Tcrpin, from you lightly throw 

This squalid weede, the patterne of dispaire. 

And wend with me, that ye may see and know 

How fortune will your ruin'd name repaire [empaire^.** 

And knights of Maidenhead, whose praise she would 



670 THE PAEKIE QTTEENB. 

With that, like one tliat hopelesse was repryv'd 

From deathes dore at which he lately lay, 

Those yron fetters wherewith he was gyv'd. 

The badges of reproch he threw away, 

And nimbly did him dight to guide the way 

Unto the dwelling of that amazone : 

Which was from thence not past a mile or tway ; 

A. goodly citty and a mighty one, 

The which, of her owne name, she called Eadegone. 

Where they arriving by the watchmen were 
Descried streight ; who all the citty warned 
How that three warlike persons did appeare. 
Of which the one him seem'd a knight all armed. 
And th' other two well likely to have harmed. 
Eftsoones the people all to harnesse ran, 
And like a sort of bees in clusters swarmed : 
Ere long their queene herselfe, halfe like a man, 
Came forth into the rout, and them t* array began. 

And now the knights, being arrived neare, 

Did beat uppon the gates to enter in ; 

And at the porter, skorning them so few. 

Threw many threats, if they the towne did win. 

To teare his flesh in pieces for his sin : 

Which whenas Kadigund there comming heard, 

Her heart for rage did grate, and teeth did grin : 

She bad that streight the gates should be unbard. 

And to them way to make with weapons well prepari 

Soone as the ^ates were open to them set. 

They pressed forward, entraunce to have made : 

!But in the middle way they were ymet 

With a sharpe showre of arrowes, which them staid, 

And better bad advise, ere they assaid 

Unknowen pe-rill of bold womens pride. ^ 

Then all that rout uppon them rudely laid, 

And heaped strokes so fast on every side. 

And arrowes haild so thicke, that they could not abide^ 

But Kadigund herselfe, when she espide ^ 

Sir Terpin from her direfull doome acquit 

So cruell doale amongst her maides divide, 

T' avenge that shame they did on him commit^ 

All sodainely enflam'd with furious fit 

Like a fell lionesse at him she flew. 

And on his head-piece him so fiercely smit, 

That to the ground him quite she overthrew, 

Dismayd so with the stroke that he no colours knew. 



THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 571 

Soone as slie saw liim on the ground to grovell. 

Sue lightly to him leapt; and, in his necke 

Her proud foote setting, at his head did levell, 

Weening at once her wrath on him to wreake, 

And his contempt, that did her iudgment breake : 

As when a beare hath seiz'd her cruell clawes 

Uppon the carkasse of some beast too weake. 

Proudly stands over, and awhile doth pause 

To heare the piteous beast pleading her plaintiife cause. 

"Whom whenas Artegall in that distress e 

By chaunce beheld, he left the bloudy slaughter 

In which he swam, and ranne to his redresse : 

There her assayhng fiercely fresh he raught her 

Such an huge stroke, that it of sence distraught her; 

And, had she not it warded warily, 

It had depriv'd her mother of a daughter : 

Nathlesse for all the powre she did apply 

It made her stagger oft, and stare with ghastly eye. 

Like to an eagle, in his kingl;y pride 

Soring through his wide empire of the aire, 

To weather his brode sailes, by chaunce hath spide 

A goshauke, which hath seized for her share 

Uppon some fowle, that should her feast prepare ; 

With dreadfull force he flies at her bylive, 

That with his souce, which none enduren dare. 

Her from the quarry he away doth drive, 

And from her griping pounce the greedy prey doth rive. 

But, soone as she her sence recover'd had, 

She fiercely towards him herselfe gan dight, 

Through vengeful wrath and sdeignfull pride half mad ; 

For never had she suflred such despight : 

But, ere she could ioyne hand with him to fight. 

Her warlike maides about her flockt so fast, 

That they disparted them, maugre their might, 

And with their troupes did far asunder cast : 

But mongst the rest the fight did untiU evening last. 

And every while that mighty yron man, 

AVith his strange weapon, never wont in warre, 

Them sorely vext, and courst, and over-ran, 

And broke their bowes, and did their shooting marre 

That none of aU the many once did darre 

Him to assault, nor once approach him nie ; 

But like a sort of sheepe dispersed farre, 

For dread of their devouring enemie. 

Through all the fields and vaJlics did before him file. 



572 THE FAEEIE QUEENJB. 

But wlienas dales faire sliinie beame, yclowded 
With fearefull sliadowes of deformed niglit, 
Warn'd man and beast in quiet rest be slirowded, 
Bold Eadigund with sound of trumpe on hight, 
Causd all her people to surcease from fight ; 
And, gathering them unto her citties gate. 
Made them all enter in before her sight ; 
And all the wounded, and the weake in state, 
To be convayed in, ere she would once retrate. 

When thus the field was voided all away. 
And all things quieted ; the elfin knight, 
Weary of toile and travell of that day, 
Causd his pavilion to be richly pight, 
Before the city-gate, in open sight ; 
Where he himselfe did rest in safety 
•Together with Sir Terpin all that night : 
But Talus usde, in times of ieopardy, 
To keepe a nightly watch for dread of treachery. 

But E-adigund, full of heart-gnawing griefe 
[For the rebuke which she sustain'd that day. 
Could take no rest, ne would receive reliefe ; 
But tossed in her troublous minde what way 
She mote revenge that blot which on her lay. 
There she resolv'd herselfe in single fight 
To try her fortune, and his force assay, 
Hather than see her people spoiled quight, 
As she had seene that day, a disadventerous sight. 

She called forth to her a trusty mayd, ^ 

Whom she thought fittest for that businesse : 

Her name was Clarin, and thus to her sayd ; 

" Groe, damzell, quickly, doe thj^selfe addresse 

To doe the message which I shall expresse : 

Goe thou unto that stranger faery knight. 

Who yesterday drove us to such distresse; 

Tell, that to-morrow I with him will fight. 

And try in equall field whether hath greater might* 

"But these conditions doe to him propound; 

That, if I vanquishe him, he shall obay 

My law, and ever to my lore be bound ; 

And so will I, if me he vanquish may ; 

Whatever he shall like to doe or say : 

Go streight, and take wath thee to witnesse it 

Sixe of tJiy fellowes of the best array. 

And beare with you both wine and iuncates fit. 

And bid him eate : henceforth he offc shall hungry sit.' 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 573 

Tlie damzell streiglit obayd ; and, putting all 

In readinesse, forth to the town-gate went ; 

Where, sounding loud a trumpet from the wall, 

Unto those warlike knights she warning sent. 

Then Talus forth issuing from the tent 

Unto the wall his way did fearless e take, 

To weeten what that trumpets sounding ment : 

Where that same damzell lowdly him bespake, 

And shew'd that with his lord she would emparlaunce make. 

So he them streight conducted to his lord ; 
Who, as he could, them goodly well did greete. 
Till they had told their message word by word ; 
Which he accepting, well as he could weete, 
Them fairely entertaynd with curt'sies meete. 
And gave them gifts and things of deare delight: 
So backe againe they homeward turn'd their feetc; 
But Artegall himselfe to rest did dight. 
That he mote fresher be against the next dales iight- 



CAISTTO V. 

Artegall fights with Radigund, 
And is subdew'd by guile : 

He is by her emprisoned, 
But wrought by Clarins wile. 

So soone as day forth dawning from the east . 
Nights humid curtaine from the heavens withdrew. 
And earely calling forth both man and beast 
Commaunded them their daily workes renew ; 
Those noble warriors, mindefull to purse w 
The last daies purpose of their vowed fight. 
Themselves thereto preparde in order dew; 
The knight, as best was seeming for a knight, 
And th' amazon, as best it likt herselfe to dight. 

All in a camis light of purple silke 
Woven uppon with silver, subtly wrought 
And quilted uppon sattin white as milke ; 
Trayled with ribbands diversly distraught, 
Like as the workcman had their courses taught; 
Which was short tucked for light motion 
Up to her ham ; but, when she list, it raught 
Downe to her lowest heele, and thereuppon 
She wore for her defence a mayled habergeon. 



57<t THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

And on Iier legs slie painted buskins wore, 
Basted with bends of gold on every side, 
And mailes betweene, and laced close afore 5 
Uppon her thigh her cemitare was tide 
With an embrodered belt of mickell pride ; 
And on her shoulder hung her shield, bedeckt 
Uppon the bosse with stones that shined wide. 
As the faire moone in her most full aspect ; 
That to the moone it mote be like in each respect, 

So^ forth she came out of the citty-gate 

With stately port and proud magnificence. 

Guarded with many damzels that did waite 

Uppon her person for her sure defence, 

Playing on shaumes and trumpets, that from Iience 

Their sound did reach unto the heavens hight : 

So forth into the field she marched thence. 

Where was a rich pavilion ready pight 

Her to receive, till time they should begin the fight. 

Tlien forth came Artegall out of his tent, 

All arm*d to point, and first the lists did enter : 

Soone after eke came she with full intent 

And countenaunce fierce, as having fully bent he? 

That battels utmost triall to adventer. 

The lists were closed fast, to barre the rout 

!From rudely pressing on the middle center; 

Which in great heapes them circled all about, 

Wayting how fortune would resolve that dangerous dout. 

The trumpets sounded, and the field began ; 

With bitter strokes it both began and ended. 

She at the first encounter on him ran 

With furious rage, as if she had intended 

Out of his breast the very heart have rended: 

But he, that had like tempests often tride. 

From that first flaw himselfe right well defended. 

The more she rag'd, the more he did abide; 

She hewd, she foynd, she lasht, she laid on every side. 

Yet still her blowes he bore, and her forbore, 

Weening at last to win advantage new ; 

Yet still her crueltie increased more. 

Arid, though powre faild, her courage did accrew ; 

Which fayling, he gan fiercely her pursew : 

Like as a smith that to his cunning feat 

The stubborne mettal seeketh to subdew, 

Soone as he feeles it mollifide with heat. 

With his great yron sledge doth strongly on it beat 



THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 575 

So did Sir Artegall upon lier lay, 

As if she had an yron andvile beene, 

That flakes of fire, bright as the sunny ray. 

Out of her steely armes were flashing seene. 

That all on fire ye would her surely weene : 

But with her shield so weU herselfe she warded 

From the dread daunger of his weapon keene, 

That all that while her life she safely garded ; 

But he that helpe from her against her will discarded: 

For with his trenchant blade at the next blow 

Halfe of her shield he shared quite away, 

Tkat halfe her side itselfe did naked show, 

And thenceforth unto daunger opened way 

Much was she moved with the mightie sway 

Of that sad stroke, that halfe enrag'd she grew; 

And like a greedie beare unto her pray 

With her sharpe cemitare at him she flew, [drew. 

That glauncing downe his thigh the purple bloud forth 

Thereat she gan to triumph with great boast. 

And to upbrayd that chaunce which him misfell. 

As if the prize she gotten had almost. 

With spightfuU speaches, fitting with her well; 

That his great hart gan inwardly to swell 

With indignation at her vaunting vaine. 

And at her strooke with puissaunce fearefull fell; 

Yet with her shield she warded it againe. 

That shattered all to pieces round about the plain©. 

Having her thus disarmed of her shield. 

Upon her helmet he againe her strooke, 

That downe she fell upon the grassie field 

In sencelesse swoune, as if her life forsooke. 

And pangs of death her spirit overtooke : 

Whom when he saw before his foote prostrated. 

He to her lept with deadly dreadfull looke, 

And her sun-shynie helmet soone unlaced, 

Thinking at once both head and helmet to have raced. 

But, whenas he discovered had her face. 

He saw, his senses straunge astonishment, 

A miracle of natures goodly grace 

In her faire visage voide of ornament, 

But bath'd in bloud and sweat together ment; 

Which, in the rudenesse of that evill plight, 

Bewrayd the signes of feature excellent: 

Like as the moone, in foggie winters night, 

Doth seemo to be herselfe. though darkned bo her light. 



576 THE FAEBIE QITEENE. 

At siglit ttereof bis cruell minded liart 

Enipierced was with pittifiill regard, 

That his sharpe sword he threw from him apart. 

Cursing his hand that had that visage mard: 

1^0 hand so cruell, nor no hart so hard, 

But ruth of beautie will it molhfie. 

'3y this, upstarting fr(»m her swoune she star'd 

A while about her with confused eye ; 

Like one that from his dreame is waked suddenlye. 

Soone as the knight she there by her did spy 

Standing with emptie hands all weaponlesse. 

With fresh assault upon him she did fly. 

And gan renew her former cruelnesse : 

And though he still retyr'd, yet nathelesse 

With huge redoubled strokes she on liim layd; 

And more increast her outrage mercilesse. 

The more that he with me eke intreatie prayd 

Her wrathful hand from greedy vengeance to have etayd. 

Like as a putto eke having spyde in sight 

A gentle faulcon sitting on an lull, 

Whose other wing, now made unmeete for flight. 

Was lately broken by some fortune ill ; 

The foohsh kyte, let with Hcentious will, 

Both beat Upon the gentle bird in vaine. 

With many idle stoups her troubling still : 

Even so did Eadigund with bootlesse paine 

Annoy this noble knight, and sorely him constraine. 

Nought could he do but shun the dred despight 

Of her fierce wrath, and backward still retyre ; 

And with his single shield, well as he might, 

Beare ofi* the burden of her raging yre ; 

And evermore he gently did des;>Te 

To stay her strokes, and he himselfe would yield : 

Yet noult she hearke, ne let him once respyre, 

Till he to her delivered had his shield. 

And to her mercie him submitted in plaine field. 

So was he overcome, not overcome ; 

But to her jreelded of his owne accord ; 

Yet was* he iustly damned by the doome 

Of his owne mouth, that spake so warelesse word. 

To be her thrall and service her aflbrd : 

For though that he first victorie obtayned. 

Yet after, by abandoning his sword. 

He wilfull lost that he before attayned : 

No fayrer conquest Uien that with goodwill is gayned* 



THE FAERIE QUEENE, 577 

Tlio witli her sword on him slie flatling strooke. 
In signe of true subiection to her powre. 
And as her vassall him to thraldome tooke : 
But Terpine, borne to a more unhappy howre. 
As he on whom the lucklesse starres did lowre. 
She causd to be attacht and forthwith led 
Unto the crooke, t' abide the baleful! stowre 
From which he lately had through reskew fled : 
Where he full shamefully was hanged by the hed. 

But, when they thought on Talus hands to lay. 

He with his yron flaile amongst them thondred, 

Biat they were fayne to let him scape away, 

Glad from his companie to be so sondred; 

Whose presence all their troups so much encombred, 

That th' heapes of those which he did wound and slay. 

Besides the rest dismayd, might not be nombred : 

Yet all that while he would not once assay 

To reskew his owne lord, but thought it iust t* obay. 

Then tooke the amazon this noble knight. 
Left to her will by his owne wilfull blame. 
And caused him to be disarmed quight 
Of all the ornaments of knightly name. 
With A^'hich whylome he gotten had great famoi 
Instead whereof she made him to be dight 
In womans weedes, that is to manhood shame^ 
And put before his lap an apron white. 
Instead of curiets and bases fit for fight. 

So being clad she brought him from the field, 
In which he had bene trayned many a day, 
Into a long large chamber, which was sield 
With moniments of many knights decay 
By her subdewed in victorious fray: 
Amongst the which she caused his warlike armes 
Be hang'd on high, that mote his shame bewray ; 
And broke his sword for feare of further harmes, 
With which he wont to stirre up battailous alarmes. 

There entred in he round about him saw 

Many brave knights whose names right well he knew. 

There bound t' oba,y that amazons proud law, 

Spinning and carding all in comely rew, 

That his bigge hart loth'd so uncomely vew: 

But they were fprst, through penurie and pyne, 

To doe those workes to thi m appointed dew : 

For nought was given them to sup or dyne, 

But what their hands could earne by twisting linnentwyno. 



578 THE FAERIE QUEEN H. 

Amongst them all slie placed him most 1ot7, 

And m his hand a distaffe to him gave, 

That he thereon should spin both Sax and tow ; 

A sordid office for a mind so brave : 

So hard it is to be a womans slave ! 

Yet he it tooke in his owne selfes despight. 

And thereto did himselfe right well behave 

Her to obay, sith he his faith had plight 

Her vassall to become, if she him wonne in fight. 

Who had him scene, imagine mote thereby 

That whjdome hath of Hercules bene told. 

How for lolas sake he did apply 

His ni'ghtie hands the distaffe vile to hold 

Tor his huge club, which had subdew'd of old 

So many monsters which the world annoyed ; 

His lyons skin chaungd to a pall of gold. 

In which, forgetting warres, he onely ioyed > 

In combats of sweet love, and with his mistresse toyed. 

Such is the crueltie of womenkynd, 

When they have shaken off the shamefast band. 

With which wise nature did them strongly bynd 

T' obay the heasts of mans well- ruling hand. 

That then all rule and reason they withstand 

To purchase a licentious libertie: 

But vertuous women wisely understand. 

That they were borne to base humilitie, 

XJnlesse the heavens them lift to lawfull soveraintie. 

Thus there long while continued Artegall, 
Serving proud E-adigund with true subiection : 
However it his noble heart did gall 
T' obay a womans tyrrannous direction, 
That might have had of life or death election : 
But, having chosen, now he might not chaunge. 
During which time the warlike amazon, 
Whose wandring fancie after lust did raimge, 
Gan cast a secret liking to this captive straungo. 

Which long concealing in her covert brest, 

She chaw'd the cud of lovers carefuU plight; 

Yet could it not so thoroughly digest, 

Being fast fixed in her wounded spright, 

But it tormented her both day and night : 

Yet would she not thereto yeeld free accor. 

To serve the lowly vassall of her might, 

And of her servant make her soverayne lord : 

So great her pride that she such basenesse much abhord. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 579 

So mucli tlie greater still her anguisli gre^, 

Tiirougli stubborne liandling of her love-sicke hart; 

And still the more she strove it to subdew, 

The more she still augmented her owne smart, 

And wyder made the wound of th' hidden dart. 

At last, when long she struggled had in vaine, 

Slie gan to stoupe, and her proud niind convert 

To meeke obeysance of loves mightie raine. 

And him entreat for grace that had procur'd her paiae. 

Unto herselfe in secret she did call 

Her nearest ,handmayd, whom she most did trust. 

And to her said ; " Clarinda, whom of all 

I trust alive, sith I thee fostred first ; 

'No\Y is the time that I untimely must 

Thereof make try all, in my greatest need! 

It is so hapned that the heavens uniust, 

Spightingmy happie freedome, have agreed 

To thrall my looser life, or my last bale to breed." 

With that she turn'd her head, as halfe abashed, 

To hide the blush which in her visage rose 

And through her eyes like sudden lightning flashed, 

Decking her cheeke with a vermilion rose : 

But soone she did her countenance compose, 

And, to her turning, thus began againe ; 

" This griefes deepe wound I would to thee disclose, 

Thereto compelled through hart-murdring paine ; 

But dread of shame my doubtfull lips doth still rcstraino." 

" Ah ! my deare dread," said then the fearefull mnyd, 
" Can dread of ought your dreadlesse hart withhold. 
That many hath with dread of death dismayd. 
And dare even deathes most dreadfull face behold ? 
Say on, my soverayne ladie, and be bold: 
Doth not your handmayd life at your foot lie?'* 
Therewith much comforted she gan unfold 
The cause of her conceived maladie ; 
As one that would confesse, yet faine would it denie. 

" Clarin," sayd she, " thou seest yond fayry knight, 
Whom not my valour, but his owne brave mind 
Subiected hath to my unequall might ! 
What right is it, that he should thraldome find 
!For lending life to me a wretch unkind, 
That for such good him recompence with ill I 
Therefore I cast how I may him unbind, 
And by his freedome get his free goodwill ; 
Yet so, aa bound to mo he may continue stiU: 



5^ THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

*' Bound unto me ; but nofc with sucli hard bands. 
Of strong compulsion and streight violence, 
As now in miserable state he stands ; 
But with sweet love and sure benevolence, 
Yoide of rnalitious mind or foule oifence: 
To which if thou canst win him any way 
Without discoverie of my thoughts pretence, 
Both goodly meede of him it purchase may. 
And eke with gratefull service me right well apay, 

" Which that thou mayst the better bring to pass, 

Loe ! here this rin?, wl ich shall thy warrant bee 

And token true to old Eumenias, 

From lime to time, when thou it best sLalt see. 

That in and out thou mayst have passage free. 

Goe now, Clarinda ; well thy wits advise. 

And all thy forces gather unto thee, 

Armies of love'y lookes, and speeches wise. 

With which thou canst even love himselfe to love entlse." 

The trustie mayd, conceiving her intent, 
Did with sure promise of her good endevour 
-Give her great comfort and some harts content: 
So from her parting she thenceforth did labour. 
By nil the meanes she mighte to curry favour 
With th' elfin knight, her ladies best beloved : 
With daily shew oF courteous kind behaviour. 
Even at the marke-white oi his hart she roved, 
And with wide-glauncing words one day she thus him i)roved : 

" Unhappie knight, upon whos-^ hopelesse state 

Fortune, envying good, hath felly frowned. 

And cruell J eavens have heapt an heavy fate ; 

I rew that thus thy better dayes are drowned 

In sad despaire, and all thy senses swowned 

In sti'pid sorow, sith thy iustcr merit 

Might else have with felicitie bene crowned: 

Looke up at last, and wake ihy dulled spirit 

To thinke how this long death thou mightest disinherit !** 

Much did he maryell at her uncouth speach. 
Whose hidden drift he could not well perceive; 
And gan to doubt least she him sought t'appeach 
Of treason, or some guilefull traine did weave. 
Through which she might his aa retched life bereave • 
Both which to barre he with this answere met her, 
"Faire damzell, that with ruth, as I perceave, 
Of my mishaps art mov'd to wish me better, 
For such your kind regard 1 can but rest your deitcr ; 



THE FAEBIE QTJEENB. 581 

" Yet weet ye well, that to a courage great 

It is no lesse beseeming well to beare 

Tiie storme of fortune's frowne or heavens threat. 

Then in the sunshine of her countenance cleara 

Timely to ioy and carrie comely cheare : 

For thouojh this cloud hath now me overcast, 

Yet doe I not of better times despejrre; 

And though (unlike) they should for ever last 

Yet in my truthes assurance I rest fixed fast. 

" But what so stonie minde," she then replyde, 
" But if in his owne powre occasion lay, 
Would to his hope a windowe open wyde, 
And to his fortunes helpe make readie way ?" 
** Unworthy sure,'* quoth he, " of better day. 
That will not take the offer of good hope. 
And eke pursew, if he attaine it may/* 
Wiiich speaches she applying to the scope 
Of her intent, this further purpose to him shopet 

" Tlien why dost not, thou ill-advized man. 

Make meanes to win thy libertie forlorne, 

And try if thou by faire entreatie can 

Move Iladigund ? who though she still have worne 

Her dayes in warre, yet (weet thou) was not borne 

Of beares and tygres, nor so salvage mynded 

As that, albe all love of men she scorne. 

She yet forgets that she of men was kynded; [blynded." 

And sooth oft seene that proudest harts base love hath 

" Certes, Clarin4a, not of cancred will,'* 
Sayd he, *' nor obstinate disdainefuU mind, 
I have forbore this duetie to fulfill ; 
For well I may this weene, by that I fynd, 
That shee a queene, and come of princely kynd. 
Both worthie is for to be sewd unto, . . 

Chiefely by him whose life her law doth bynd, 
And eke of powre her owne doome to undo. 
And als* of princely grace to be inclyn'd thereto. 

" But want of meanes hath bene mine onely let 

From seeking favour where it doth abound; 

Which if I might by your good office get, 

I to yourselfe should rest for ever bound. 

And ready to deserve what grace I found/' 

She feeling him thus bite upon the bayt, 

Yet doubting least his hold was but unsound 

And not well fastened, would not strike him strayfc, 

But drew him on with hope, fit leasure to awayt. 



582 THE FAEETE QTTEENE. 

Bat fooliwsh mayd, Trhj^les lieedlesse of tlie liooke 

Slie thus oft-times was beating off and on, 

Through slipperie footing fell into the brooke, 

And there was caught to her confusion ; 

'For, seeking thus to salve the aniazon. 

She wounded was with her deceipts owne dart. 

And gan thenceforth to cast affection, 

Conceived close in her beguiled hart, 

To Artegall, through pit tie of his causelesse smart. 

Yet durst she not disclose her fancies wound, 

ISTe to himselfe, for doubt of being sdayned, 

JN'e yet to any other wight on ground, 

[For feare her mistresse should have knowledge gayncd j 

But to herselfe it secretly retayned 

Within the closet of her covert brest : 

The more thereby her tender hart was payned ; 

Yet to awayt fit time she weened best. 

And fairely did dissemble her sad thoughts unrest. 

One day her ladie, calling her apart, 

Gan to demaund of her some ty dings good. 

Touching her loves successe, her lingring smart : 

Therewith she gan at first to change her mood, 

As one adaw'd, and halfe confused stood ; 

But quickly she it overpast, so soone 

A s she her face had wypt to fresh her blood ; 

Tho gan she tell her all that she had donne, 

And all the wayes she sought his love for to have woime : 

But sayd, that he was obstinate and sterne^ 

Scorning her offers and conditions vaine; 

l^e would be taught with any termes to lerne 

So fond a lesson as to love againe : 

Die rather would he in penurious paine. 

And his abridged dayes in dolour wast. 

Then his foes love or liking entertaine : 

His resolution was, both first and last, 

His hodie was her thrall, his hart loas freelp plast. 

Which when the cruell amazon perceived, 

She gan to storme, and rage, and rend her gall, 

For very fell despight, which she conceived, 

To be so scorned of a base-borne thrall. 

Whose life did lie in her least ej^e-lids fall ; 

Of which she vow'd, with many a cursed threat. 

That she therefore would him ere long f'orstall. 

Kathlesse, when calmed was her furious heat. 

She chang'd that threatfull mood, and mildly gan entreat : 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB, 683 

* What now is left, Clarinda? what remain es. 

That we may compasse th-s our enterprize? 

Great shame to lose so long employed paines. 

And greater shame t'abide so great misprize, 

With which he dares our offers thus despize: 

Yet that his guilt the greater may appeare, 

And more my gratious mercie by this wize, 

I wiU awhile with his first folly beare, 

Till thou have tride againe, and tempted him more neare. 

*' Say and do all that may thereto prevaile ; 

Leave nought unpromist that may him per s wade, 

Life, freedome, grace, and gifts of great availe. 

With which the gods themselves are mylder made : 

Thereto adde art, even womens witty trade. 

The art of mightie words that men can charme ; 

With which in case thou canst him not invade. 

Let him feele hardnesse of thy heavy arme : [harme. 

Who will not stoupe with good shall be made stoupe with 

" Some of his diet dee from him withdraw; 
For I him find to be too proudly fed : 
Give him more labour, and with streighter law. 
That he with worke may be forwearied : 
Let him lodge hard, and lie in strawen bed, 
That may pull downe the courage of his pride ; 
And lay upon him, for his greater dread. 
Cold yron chaines with which let him be tide; 
And let, whatever he desires, be him denide. 

** When thou hast all this doen, then bring me newcs 

Of his demeane ; thenceforth not like a lover, 

But like a rebell stout, I will him use : 

For I resolve this siege not to give over. 

Till I the conquest of my will recover." 

So she departed full of griefe and sdaine. 

Which inly did to great impatience move her: 

But the false mayden shortly turn'd againe 

Unto the prison, where her hart did thrall remaino. 

There all her sub till nets she did unfold. 

And all the engins of her wit display; 

In which she meant him warelesse to enfold, 

And of his innocence to make her pray. 

So cunningly she wrought her cratfs assay. 

That both her ladie, and herselfe withall. 

And eke the knight attonce she did betray; 

But most the knight, whom she with guilefull call 

Did cast for to allure, into her trap to fall. 



584 THE FAERIE QUEENIT. 

As a bad nurse, wLicli, fayning to receive 
In her owne mouth the food ment for her chyld, 
Withholdes it to herselfe, and doeth deceive 
The infant, so for want of nourture spoyld ; 
Even so Clarinda her owne dame beguyld. 
And turn'd the trust, which was in her affyde. 
To feeding of her private fire, which boyld 
Her inward brest, and in her entrayles fryde. 
The more that she it sought to cover and to hyde. 

For, comming to this knight, she purpose fayned. 
How earnest suit she earst for him had made 
Unto her queene, his freedome to have gayned; 
But by no meanes could her thereto perswade. 
But that instead thereof she sfcernely bade 
His miserie to be augmented more, 
And many yron bands on him to lade ; 
All which nathlesse she for his love forbore 
So praying him t 'accept her service evermore. 

And, more then that, shepromist that she would. 

In case she might finde favour in his eye. 

Devize how to enlarge him out of hould. 

The fayrie, glad to gaine his hbertie, 

Can yeeld great thankes for such her curtesie ; 

And with faire words, fit for the time and place. 

To feede the humour of her maladie, 

Promist, if she would free him from that case. 

He wold by all good meanes he might deserve such graco,, 

So daily he faire semblant did her shew. 

Yet never meant he in his noble mind 

To his owne absent love to be untrew: 

"Ne ever did deceiptfull Clarin find 

In her false harfc his bondage to unbind; 

But rather how she mote him faster tye. 

Therefore unto her mistresse most unkind 

She daily told her love he did defye; 

And him she told her dame his freedome did denye. 

Yefc thus much friendship she to him did show. 
That his scarse diet somewhat was amended, 
And his worke lessened, that his love mote growi 
Yet to her dame him still she discommended, 
That she with him mote be (he more offended. 
Thus he long while in thraldome there remayned,. 
Of both beloved well, but little friended ; 
Untill his owne true love his freedome gayned: 
Which in another canto will be best contayned. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 585 



CANTO YI. 

Talus brings newes to Britomart 

Of Artegals mishap : 
She goes to seeke him ; Dolon meetes, 

AVho seekes her to entrap. 

Some men, I wote, will deeme in Artegall ^ 
Great weaknesse, and report of him much ill, 
Por y eel ding so himselfe a wretched thrall 
To th' insolent commannd of womens will ; 
That all liis former praise doth fowly spill : 
Eut he the man, that say or doe so dare. 
Be well adviz'd that he stand stedfast still ; 
For never yet was wight so well aware, 
But he at first or last was trapt in womens snaro. 

Yet in the streightnesse of that captive state 

This gentle knight himselfe so well behaved. 

That notwithstanding all the subtill bait, 

With which those amazons his love still craved, 

To his owne love his loialtie he saved : 

Whose character in th' adamantine mould 

Of his true hart so firmely was engraved, 

That no new loves impression ever could 

Bereave it thence : such blot his honour blemish should. 

Yet his owne love, the noble Britomart, 

Scarse so conceived in her iealous thought, 

What time sad tydings of his balefuU smart 

In womans bondage Talus to her brought ; 

Brought in untimely houre, ere it was sought : 

For, after that the utmost date assynde 

For his returne she waited had for nought, 

She gan to cast in her misdoubtfull mynde 

A thousand feares, that love-sicke fancies faine to flndo. 

Sometime she feared least some hard mishap 

Had him misfalne in his adventurous quest ; 

Sometime least his false foe did him entrap 

In traytrous traine, or had unwares opprest ; 

But most she did her troubled mynd molest. 

And secretly afflict with iealous feare. 

Least some new love had him from her possest ; 

Yet loth she was, since she no ill did heare, 

To thinke of him so ill ; yet could she not forbeare. 



586 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

One while slie blam'd herselfe ; anotlier wliyle 

She linn condemn'd as trustlesse and untrew: 

And then, her griefe with errour to beguyle. 

She fayn'd to count the time againe anew. 

As if before she had not counted trew: 

Por houres, but dayes ; for weekes that passed were, 

She told but mone'ths to make them seeme more few 

Yet, when she reckned them still drawing neare. 

Each hour did seeme a moneth, and every moneth a yeare. 

But, whenas yet she saw him not returne. 

She thought to send some one to seeke him out; 

But none she found so fit to serve that turne. 

As her owne selfe, to ease herselfe of dout. 

"Now she deviz'd, amongst the warlike rout 

Of errant knights, to seeke her errant knight; 

And then againe resolv'd to hunt him out 

Amongst loose ladies lapped in delight: 

And then both knights envide, and ladies eke did spight. 

One day whenas she long had sought for ease 
In every place, and every place thought best. 
Yet found no place that could her liking please. 
She to a window came, that opened west, 
Towards which coast her love his way addrest: 
There looking forth shee in her heart did find 
Many vain fancies working her unrest ; 
And sent her winged thoughts more swift then wind 
To beare unto her love the message of her mind. 

There as she looked long, at last she spide 

One comming towards her with hasty speede; ^ 

Well weend she then, ere him she plaine descride. 

That it was one sent from her love indeede: 

Who when he nigh approacht, shee mote arede 

That it was Talus, Arte.2:all his groome : 

Whereat her hart was fild with hope and drede; 

Ne would she stay till he in place could come. 

But ran to meete him forth to know his tidings somme. 

Even in the dore him meeting, she begun; 

" And where is he thy lord, and how far hence ? 

Declare at once : and hath he lost or wun?" 

The yron man, albe he wanted sence 

And sorrowes feeHng, yet, with conscience 

Of his ill newes, did inly chill and quake, 

And stood still mute, as one in great suspence; 

As if that by his silence he would make 

Her rather reade his meaning then himselfe it spake. 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 5S7 

Till she againe iKus sayd : " Talus, be bold,- 
And tell whatever it be, good or bad. 
That from thy tongue thy hearts intent doth hold." 
To whoni he thus at length: " The tidings sad, 
That I would hide, will needs I see be rad.^ 
My lord (your love) by hard mishap doth lie 
In wretched bondage, wofuUy bestad." 
"Ay me," quoth she, *' what wicked destinie ! 
And is he vanquisht by his tyrant enemy ?'* 

" J^ot by that tyrant, his intended foe; 

But by a tyrannesse," he then replide, 

" That him captived hath in haplesse woe." 

" Cease thou, bad newes-man; badly doest thou hido 

Thy maisters shame, in harlots bondage tide ; 

The rest myselfe too readily can spell." 

With that in rage she turn'd from him aside. 

Forcing in vaine the rest to her to tell ; 

And to her chamber went like solitary cell. 

There she began to make her moanefull plaint 

Against her knight for being so untrew ; 

And him to touch with falshoods fowle attaint. 

That all his other honour overthrew. 

Oft did she blame herselfe, and often rew. 

For yeelding to a straungers love so light, 

Whose life and manners straunge she never knew; 

And evermore she did him sharpely twight 

For breach of faith to her, which he had iirmely plight. 

And then she in her wrathful! will did cast 

How to revenge that blot of honour blent. 

To fight with him, and goodly die her last. 

And then againe she did herselfe torment. 

Inflicting on herselfe his punishment. 

Awhile she walkt, and chauft ; awhile she threw 

Herselfe uppon her bed, and did lament: 

Yet did she not lament with loude alew. 

As women wont, but with deepe sighes and singulfs few. 

Like as a wayward childe, whose sounder sleepe 
Is broken with some fearefull dreames affright. 
With froward will doth set himselfe to weepe, 
Ne can be stild for all his nurses might, 
But kicks, and squals, and shriekes for fell despight | 
Now scratching her, and her loose locks misusing, 
Now seeking darkenesse, and now seeking light, 
Tlien craving sucke, and then the sucke refusing: 
Such was this ladies fit in her loves fond accusing. 



58S THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

But wlien she liad witli siicL. unquiet fits 

Herself there close afflicted long in vaine, 

Yet found no easement in her troubled wits, 

She unto Talus forth returned againe, 

By change of place seeking to ease her paine ; 

And gan enquire of him with mylder mood 

The certaine cause of Artegals detaine, 

And what he did, and in what state he stood, 

And whether he did woo, or whether he were woo'd. 

" Ah wellaway !" said then the yron man, 

** That he is not the while in state to woo ; 

But lies in wretched thraldome, weake and wan, 

jSTot by strong hand compelled thereunto, 

But his owne doome, that none can now undoo." 

" Sayd I not then," quoth she, " e-re-while aright, 

That this is thinge compacte betwixt you two 

Me to deceive of faith unto me plight, 

Since that he was not forst, nor overcome in fight ?* 

With that he gan at large to her dilate 
The whole discourse of his captivance sad, 
In sort as ye have heard the same of late : 
All which when she with hard enduraunce had 
Heard to the end, she was right sore bestad, 
With sodaine stounds of wrath and grief attone ; 
ISTe would abide, till she had aunswere made ; 
But streight herselfe did dight, and armor don, 
And mounting to her steede bad Talus guide her on. 

So forth she rode uppon her ready way, 

To seeke her knight, as Talus her did guide : 

Sadly she rode and never word did say 

Nor good nor bad, ne ever lookt aside. 

But still right do wne ; and in her thought did hide 

The felnesse of her heart, right fully bent 

To fierce avengement of that womans pride. 

Which had her lord in her. base prison pent, 

And so great honour with so fowle reproch had blent. 

So as she thus melancholicke did ride, 
Chawing the cud of griefe and inward paine, 
She chaunst to meete toward the eventide 
A knight, that softly paced on the plaine. 
As if himselfe to solace he wore faine : 
Well shot in yeares he seem'd, and rather bent 
To peace then needlesse trouble to constraine ; 
As well by view of that his vestiment. 
As by his modest semblant, that no evill ment. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 589 

•He comming neare ^an gently her salute 

With curteous words, in the most comely wizei 

Who though desirous rather to rest mute, 

Then termes to entertaine of common guize, 

Yet rather then she kindnesse would despize. 

She would herselfe displease, so him requite. 

Then gan the other further to devize 

Of things abrode, as next to hand did light, 

And many things demaund, to which she answer'd light : 

For little lust had she to talke of ought. 

Or ought to heare that mote delightluU bee ; 

Her minde was whole possessed of one thought, 

That gave none other place. Which when as hea 

By outward signes (as well he might) did see, 

He list no lenger to use lothfull speach, 

But her besought to take it well in gree, 

Sitli shady dampe had dimd the heavens reach, 

To lodge with him that night, unless good cause empeacli. * 

The championesse, now seeing night at dore, 

Was glad to yeeld unto his good request ; 

And with hini went without gaine-saying more. 

Not farre away, but httle wide by west. 

His dwelling was, to which he him addrest; 

Where soone arriving they received were 

In seemely wise, as them iDeseemed best ; 

For he their host them goodly well did cheare, 

And talk't of pleasant things the night away to wcarc. 

Thus passing th' evening well, till time of rest, 

Then Britomart unto a bowre was brought ; 

Where groomes awayted her to have undrest : 

But she ne would undressed be for ought, 

Ne doiFe her armcs, though he her much besought : 

For she had vow'd, she sayd, not to forgo 

Those warlike weedes, till she revenge had wrought 

Of a late wrong uppon a mortall foe ; 

Which she would sure performe betide her wele or wo. 

Which when their host perceiv'd, right discontent 

In minde he grew, for feare least by that art 

He should his purpose misse, which close he meat | 

Yet taking leave of her he did depart : 

There all that night remained Britomart, 

Bestlesse, recomfortlesse, with heart deepe-grieved, 

Not suffering the least twinckling sleepe to start 

Into her eye, which th* heart mote have relieved; 

But if the least appear'd, her eyes she straight reprieved 



590 THE FAEEIB QUEENE. 

" Ye guilty eyes," sayd she, " tlie which, -v^dth ^uyle 

My heart at first betrayd, will be betray 

My life now too, for which a little whyie 

Ye will not watch ? false watches, wellaway ! 

I wote when ye did watch both night and day 

Unto yonr losse ; and now needes will ye sleepe ? 

Now ye have made my heart to wake alway, 

Now will ye sleepe? ah! wake, and rather weepe 

To thinke of your nights want, that should yee waki ii,Q:keepe.'* 

Thus did she watch, and weare the weary night 
In waylfull plaints, that none was to appease ; 
Now walking soft, now sitting still upright, 
As sundry chaunge her seemed best to ease. 
Ne lesse did Talus suffer sleepe to seaze 
His eye-lids sad, but watcht continually. 
Lying without her dore in great disease ; 
Like to a spaniel way ting carefully 
Least any should betray his lady treacherously. 

"What time the native belman of the night. 

The bird that warned Peter of his fall. 

First rings his silver bell t' each sleepy wight, 

That should their mindes up to devotion call. 

She heard a wondrous noise below the hall : 

All sodainely the bed, where she should he, 

By a false trap was let adowne to fall 

Into a lower roome, and by and by 

The loft was raysd againe, that no man could it spie. 

With sight whereof she was dismayd right sore, 

Perceivmg well the treason which was ment : 

Yet stirred not at all for doubt of more, 

But kept her place with courage confident, 

Way ting what would ensue of that event. 

It was not long before she heard the sound 

Of armed men comming with close intent 

Towards her chamber : at which dreadfuU stound 

She quickly caught her swbrd, and shield about her bound. 

With that there came unto her chamber dore 
Two knights all armed ready for to fight ; 
And after them full many other more, 
A raskall rout, with weapons rudely dight : 
Whom soone as Talus spide by glims of night. 
He started up, there where on ground he lay. 
And in his hand his thresher ready keight : 
They, seeing that, let drive at him streightway. 
And round about him preace in riotous aray. 



THE FAEEIE QXJEENE. 691 

But, soone as he began to lay about 
With his rude yron flaile, they gan to flie, 
Both armed knights and eke unarmed rout : 
Yet Talus after them apace did plie, 
"Wherever in the darke he could them spie ; 
That here and there like scattred sheepe they lay. 
Then, backe returning where his dame did he, 
lie to her told the story of that fray, 
And all that treason there intended did bewray. 

Wherewith though wondrous wroth, and inly burning 
To be avenged for so fowle a deede, 
Yet beiug forst t' abide the claies returning, 
She there remain'd ; but with right wary heede. 
Least any more such practise should proceede. 
Now mote ye know (that which to Britomart 
Unknowen was) whence all this did proceede ; 
And for what cause so great mischievous smart 
Was ment to her that never evill ment in hart. 

The goodman of tliis house was Dolon hight ; 

A man of subtill wit and wicked minde. 

That whilome in his j^outh had bene a knight, 

And armes had borne, but little good could finde. 

And much lesse honour by that warHke kinde 

Of life • for he was nothing valorous. 

But with slie shiftes and wiles did underminde 

All noble knights, which were adventurous. 

And many brought to shame by treason treacherous. 

He had three sonnes, all three like fathers sonnes. 

Like treacherous, like full of fraud and guile. 

Of all that on this earthly compasse wounes: 

The eldest of the which was slaine ere\^■hile 

By Artegall, through his owne guilty wile; 

His name was Guizor; whose untimely fate 

For to avenge, full many treasons vile 

His father Dolon had deviz'd of late 

AVith these his wicked sons, and shewd Lis cankred hate. 

For sure he weend that this his present guest 
Was Artegall, by many tokens plaine ; 
Bat chiefly by that yron page he gliest. 
Which still was wont with Artegall remaine ; 
And therefore ment him surely to have slaine : 
But by Gods grace, and her good heedinesse. 
She was preserved from their traytrous traine. 
Thus she all night wore out in watclifulnesse, 
Ne suflred slothful! sleepe her eyelids to oppress©. 



592 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

Tlie morrow next, so sobne as dawning liouro 

Discovered had the light to living eye, 

Slie forth yssew'd out of her loathed bowre. 

With full intent t' avenge that villany 

On that vilde man and all his family : 

And, comming down to seeke them where they wond, 

Nor sire, nor sonnes, nor any could she spie; 

Each rowme she sought, but them all empty fond : 

They all were fled for feare ; but whether, neither kond. 

She saw it vaine to make there longer stay, 

But tooke her steede ; and thereon mounting light 

Gan her addresse unto her former way. 

She had not rid the mountenance of a flight, 

But that she saw there present in her sight 

Those two false brethren on that perillous bridge, 

On which PoUente with Artegall did fight. 

Streight was the passage, like a ploughed ridge, 

That, if two met, the one mote needs fall o'er the lidge. 

There they did thinke themselves on her to wreake : 

Who as she nigh unto them drew, the one 

These vile reproches gan unto her speake ; 

** Thou recreant false traytor, that with lone 

Of armes hast knighthood stolne, yet knight art none, 

InTo more shall now the darkenesse of the night 

Defend thee from the vengeance of thy fone ; 

But with thy bloud thou shalt appease the spright 

Of Guizor by thee slaine and murdred by thy slight." 

Strange were the words in Britomartis eare ; 

Yet stayd she not for them, but forward fared. 

Till to the perillous bridge she came ; and there 

Talus desir'd that he might have prepared 

The way to her, and those two losels scared : 

But she thereat was wroth, that for despight 

The glauncing sparkles through her bever glared. 

And from her eies did flash out fiery light, 

Like coles that through a silver censer sparkle bright* 

She stayd not to advise which way to take ; 
But, putting spurres unto her fiery beast, 
Thorough the midst of them she way did make. 
The one of them, which most her wrath increast^ 
Upon her speare she bore before her breast. 
Till to the bridges further end she past : 
Where falling downe his challenge he releast : 
The other over side the bridge she cast 
Into the river, where he drunke his deadly last. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 593 

As when the flashing levin haps to light 

Uponn two stubborne oakes, which stand so neare 

That way betwixt them none appeares in sight; 

The engin, fiercely flying forth, doth teare 

Th' one from the earth, and through the aire doth beare ; 

The other it with force doth overthrow 

Uppon one side, and from his rootes doth reare : 

So did the championesse these two there strow. 

And to there sire their carcasses left to bestow. 



CANTO VII. 

Critomart comes to Isis church, 
Where shea strange visions sees: 

She fights with Itadiguncl, her slaiC3» 
And Artegall thence frees. 

NouaHT is on earth more sacred or divine. 

That gods and men doe equally adore. 

Then this same vertue that doth right define ; 

For th' hevens themselves, whence mortal men implore 

Ritrht in their wrongs, are rul'd by righteous lore 

Of highest love, who doth true iustice deale 

To his inferiour gods, and evermore 

Therewith containes his heavenly commonweale : 

The skill whereof to princes hearts he doth reveale. 

Well therefore did the antique world invent 

That Justice was a god of soveraine grace, 

And altars unto him and temples lent. 

And heavenly honours in the highest place ; 

Calling him great Osyris, of the race 

Of th'old JEgyptian kings that whylome were; 

"With fayned colours shading a true case ; 

For that Osyris, whilest he lived her(f, 

The iustest man alive and truest did appeare. 

His wife was Isis ; whom they likewise made 
A goddesse of great powre and soverainty. 
And in her person cunningly did shade 
That part of iustice which is equity, 
Whereof I have to treat here presently: 
Unto whose temple whenas Eritomarfc 
AiTived, shee witJi great humility 
Did enter in, ne would that night depart; 
But Talus mote not be admitted to her part. 



691 THE FAEEIE QUEENB, 

Tliere slie received was in goodly wize 

Of many priests, which duely did attend 

Uppon the rites and daily sacrifize, 

All clad in linnen robes with silver hemd : 

And on their heads with long locks comely temd 

They wore rich mitres shaped like the moone, 

To shew that Isis doth the moone portend ; 

Like as Osyris signifies the sunne : 

!For that they both like race in equall iustice runne. 

The chanipionesse them greeting, as she could, 

Was thence by them into the temple led ; 

Whose goodly building when she did behould 

Borne uppon stately pillours, all dispred 

With shining gold, and arched over hed, ^ 

She wondred at the workman s passing skill. 

Whose like before she never saw nor red ; 

And thereuppon long while stood gazing still, 

But thought that she thereon could never gaze her CIL 

Thenceforth unto the idoll they her brought ; 

The which was framed all of silver fine. 

So well as could with cunning hand be wrought 

And clothed all in jzarments made of line, 

Hemd all about with fringe of silver twine : 

Uppon her head she wore a crowne of gold ; 

To shew that she had powre in things divine : 

And at her feete a crocodile was rold, 

That with her wreathed taile her middle did enfold. 

One foote was set uppon the crocodile, 
And on the ground the other fast did stand; 
So meaning to suppresse both forged guile 
And open force : and in her other hand 
She stretched fortli a long white sclender wand. 
Such was the goddesse: whom when Britomart 
Had long beheld, herselfe uppon the land 
She did prostrate, and with right humble hart 
Unto herselfe her silent prayers did impart. 

To which the idoll as it were inclining 
Her wand did move with amiable looke. 
By outward shew her inward sencc desining: 
Who well perceiving how her wand she shooke. 
It as a token of good fortune tooke, 
By this the day with dampe was overcast, 
And ioyous light the house of love forsooke ; 
Which when she saw, her helmet she unlaste 
And by the altars side herselfe to slumber plaste. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 505 

For other beds tlie priests there used none, 
But on their mother earths deare lap did He, 
Aud bake their sides uppon the cold hard stone, 
T' enure themselves to sufferaunce thereby, 
. And proud rebeUious flesh to mortify: 
For, by the vow of their religion. 
They tied were to stedfast chastity 
And continence of life ; that, all forgon, 
They mote the better tend to their devotion. 

Therefore they mote not taste of fleshly food, 
Ne feed on ought the which doth bloud containe, 
"Ne drinke of wine ; for wine they say is blood, 
Even the bloud of gyants, which were slaine 
By thundring love m the Phlegrean plaine : 
For which the earth (as they the story tell) 
Wroth with the gods, which to perpetuall paine 
Had damn'd her sonnes which gainst them did rebel!, 
"With inward griefe and mahce did against them swell : 

And of their vitall bloud, the which was shed 
Into her pregnant bosome, forth she brought 
The fruitfull vine ; whose liquor blouddy red. 
Having the mindes of men with fury fraught. 
Mote in them stirre up old rebellious thought 
To make new warre against the gods againe : 
Such is the powre of that same fruit, that nought 
The fell contagion may thereof restraine, 
Ne within reasons rule her madding mood containe. 

There did the warlike maide herselfe repose. 
Under the wings of Isis all that night ; 
And with sweete rest her heavy eyes did close, 
After that long dales toile and wearie plight : 
Where whilest her earthly parts with soft delight 
Of sencelesse sleepe did deeply drowned lie. 
There did appeare unto her heavenly spright 
A wondrous vision, which did close implie 
The course of aU her fortune and posteritio. 

Her seem'd as she was doing sacrifizo 
To Isis, deckt with mitre on her lied 
And linnen stole after those priestes guize, 
All sodainely she saw transfigured 
Her linnen stole to robe of scarlet red. 
And moone-like mitre to a crownc of gold ; 
That even she herselfe much wondered 
At such a chaunge, and io5^ed to behold 
Herselfe adorn'd with gems and iewels manifold. 



5t)6 THE FAEEIE QUEEN3. 

Aud, in the midst of her felicity. 

An liideous tempest seemed from below. 

To rise through all the temple sodainely. 

That from the altar all about did blow 

The holy fire, and all the embers strow 

Uppon the ground ; which, kindled privily. 

Into outragious flames unwares did grow. 

That all the temple put in ieop ar dy 

Of flaming, and herselfe in great perplexity. 

"With that the crocodile, which sleeping lay 

Under the idols feete in fearelesse bowre, 

Seem'd to awake in horrible dismay, 

As being troubled with that stormy stowre; 

And gaping greedy wide did streight devoure 

Both flames and tempest ; with which growen great, 

And swolne with pride of his owne peerelesse powre. 

He gan to threaten her likewise to eat ; 

But that the goddesse with her rod him backe did beat. 

Tho, turning all his pride to humblesse meeke, 

Himselfe before her feete he lowly threw 

And gan for grace and love of her to seeke : 

Which she accepting, he so neare her drew 

That of his game she soone enwombcd grew. 

And forth did bring a lion of great might. 

That shortly did all other beasts subdew ; 

With that she waked full of feareiul fright, 

And doubtfully dismayd through that so i. icouth sight. 

So thereuppon long while she musing lay, 
With thousand thoughts feeding her fantasie; 
Untill she spide the lampe of lightsome day 
Up-lifted in the porch of heaven hie : 
Then up she rose fraught with melancholy. 
And forth into the lower parts did pas. 
Whereas, the priestes she found full busily 
About their holy things for morrow mas ; 
Whom she saluting faire, faire resaluted was, 

But, by the change of her unchearefull looke, 
They might perceive she was not well in plight. 
Or that some pensiveness to heart she tooke : 
Therefore thus one of them, who seem'd in sight 
To be the greatest and the gravest wight, 
To her bespake ; *' Sir knight, it seems to me 
That, thorough evill rest of this last night. 
Or ill apayd or much dismayd j^e be ; 
That by your change of chearie is easie for to see.'* 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 697 

" Cortes," sayd slie, "sith ye so well have spido 

The troublous passion of my pensive mind, 

I will not seeke the same from you to hide! 

I3ut will my cares unfolde, in hope to find 

Your aide to guide me out of errour blind." 

** Say on," quoth he, " the secret of your hart t 

For, by the holy vow which me doth bind, 

I am adiur'd best counsell to impart 

To all that shall require my comfort in their smart/' 

Then gan she to declare the whole discourse 
Of all that vision which to her appeared. 
As well as to her minde it had recourse. 
All w^hich when he unto the end had heard, 
Like to a weake faint-hearted man he fared 
Through great astonishment of that strange siglib, 
And, with long locks up-standing stilly, stared 
Like one adawed with some dreadfuU spriglit : 
So fild with heavenly fury thus he her behight; 

*' Magnificke virgin, that in queint disguise 

Of British armes doest maske thy royall blood, 

So to pursue a perillous emprize ; 

How couldst thou weene, through that disguized hood, 

To hide thy state from being understood ? 

Can from th* immortall gods ought hidden bee ? 

They doe thy linage, and thy lordly brood. 

They doe thy sire lamenting sore for thee, 

They doe thy love forlorne in womens thraldome see. 

*' The end whereof, and all the long event, 

They doe to thee in this same dreame discover : 

For that same crocodile doth represent 

The righteous knight that is thy faithfuU lover, 

Like to Osyris in all iust endever : 

For that same crocodile Osyris is. 

That under Isis feete doth sleepe for ever; 

To shew that clemence oft, in things amis, 

Bestraines those sterne behests and cruell doomes of his. 

" That knight shall all the troublous stormes asswage 

And raging flames, that many foes shall reare 

To hinder thee from the iust heritage 

Of thy sires crowne, and from thy countrey deare : 

Then shalt thou take him to thy loved fere, 

And ioyne in equall portion of thy realm e ; 

And afterwards a sonne to him shalt beare, 

That lion-like shall shew his powre extreame. 

So blesse thee God, and give thee ioyance of thy dreame I** 



59S TKE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

All wliicli wlien slie unto the end liad heard. 
She much was eased in her troublous thouglit. 
And on those priests bestowed rich reward ; 
And royall gifts of gokl and silver wrought 
She for a present to their goddesse brought. 
Then taking leave of them she forward went 
To seeke her love, where he was to be sought, 
ISTe rested till she came without relent 
Unto the land of amazons, as she was bent. 

TVTiereof when newes to Radigund was brought, 

T^ot with amaze, as womea wonted bee, 

She was confused in her troublous thought ; 

33ut flld with courage and with io.vous glee. 

As glad to heare of armes, the which now sho 

Had long surceast, she bad to open bold, 

That she the face of her new foe might see : 

"put when they of that yron man had told, 

^Yhich late her folke had slaine, she bad them forth to hold. 

So there without the gate, as seemed best, 
She caused her pavilion be pight ; 
In which stout Britomart herselfe did rest. 
Whiles Talus watched at the dore all night. 
All night likewise they of the towne in fright 
Uppon their wall good vratch and ward did keepo. 
The morrow next, so soone as dawning light 
[Bad doe away the dampe of drouzie sleepe. 
The warlike amazon out of her bowre did peepe; 

And caused streight a trumpet loud to shrill, 
To warne her foe to battell soone be prest : 
"Who, long before awoke, (for she full ill 
Could sleepe all night, that in unquiet brest 
Did closely harbour such a iealous guest,) 
Was to the battell whilome ready dight. 
Eftsoones that warriouresse w^ith haughty crest 
Did forth issue all ready for the fight ; 
On th' other side her foe appeared soone in sight. 

But, ere they reared hand, the amazone 
Began the streight conditions to propound, 
With which she used still to tye her fone, 
To serve her so, as she the rest had bound : 
"Which when the other heard, she sternly frownd 
'For high disdaine of such indignity, 
^nd would no lenger treat, but bad them sound : 
F >r her no other termes should ever tie 
Then what prescribed were by lawes of chevalrie. 



THE FAERIE QITEENE. 599 

The trumpets sound, and tliey together run 

VYitli pireedy rage, and with their faulchins smot : 

JSTe either sought the others strokes to shun, 

]3ut through great fury both their skill forgot. 

And practicke use in armes ; ne spared not 

Their dainty parts, which nature had created 

So faire and tender without staine or spot 

For other uses then they them translated ; 

Which they now hackt and hewd as if such use they iiatcd. 

As when a tygre and a lionesse 
Are met at spoyling of some hungry pray, 
Both challenge it with equall greedinesse i 
But first the tygre clawes thereon did layj 
And therefore loth to loose her right away 
Doth in defence thereof full stoutly stond : 
To which the lion strongly doth gainesay, 
That she to hunt the beast first tooke in bond ; 
And therefore ought it have wherever she it fond. 

Full fiercely layde the amazon about, 

And dealt her blowes unmercifully sore; 

Which Britomart withstood with courage stout. 

And them repaide againe with double more. 

So long they fought, that all grassie flore 

Was fild with bloud which from their sides did flow. 

And gushed through their armes, that all in gore 

They trode, and on the ground their lives did strow, 

Like fruitles seede, of which untimely death should grow. 

At last proud Eadigund with fell despight, 
Having by chaunce espide advantage neare, 
Let drive at her with aU her dreadfull might, 
And thus upbrayding said ; " This token beare 
Unto the man whom thou doest love so deare ; 
And tell him for his sake thy life thou gavest.'* 
Which spitefull words she sore engriev'd to heare 
Thus answer'd ; " Lewdly thou my love depravest, 
Who shortly must repent that now so vainely bravest." 

Nath'lesse that stroke so cruell passage found. 
That glauncing on her shoulder-plate it bit 
Unto the bone, and made a griesly wound. 
That she her shield through raging smart of it 
Could scarse uphold ; yet soone she it requit ;: 
For, having force increast through fux'ious painc. 
She her so rudely on the helmet smit 
That it empierced to the very braine, 
And her proud person low prostrated on the plamo. 



600 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Where being layd, tlie wrotlifull Britonesse 
Stayd not till she came to herselfe againe ; 
!But in revenge both of her loves distresse 
And her late vile reproch though vaunted vaine. 
And also of her wound which sore did paine, 
She with one stroke both head and helmet cleft: 
Which dreadful sight when all her warlike traino 
There present saw, each one of sence bereft 
Fled fast into the town e, and her sole victor left. 

But yet so fast they could not home retrate. 

But that swift Talus did the formost win ; 

And, pressing through the preace unto the gatOb 

Pelmell with them attonce did enter in : 

There then a piteous slaughter did begin; 

For all that ever came within his reach 

He with his yron flale did thresh so thin. 

That he no worke at all left for the leach 5 

Like to an hideous storme, which nothing may empcach. 

And now by this the noble conqueresse 
Herselfe came in, her glory to partake; 
Where though revengefull vow she did professe. 
Yet, when she saw the heapes which he did make 
Of slaughtred carkasses, her heart did quake 
For very ruth, which did it almost rive. 
That she his fury willed him to slake: 
For else he sure had left not one alive ; 
But all, in his revenge, of spirite would deprive. 

Tho, when she had his execution stayd. 

She for that yron prison did enquire,^ 

In w^hich her wretched love was captive layd: 

Which breaking open with indignant ire. 

She entred into all the partes entire : 

Where when she saw that lothly uncouth sight 

Of men disguiz'd in womanishe attire, 

Her heart gan grudge for very deepe despight 

Of so unmanly maske in misery misdight. 

At last whenas to her owne love she came. 

Whom like disguize no lesse deformed had. 

At sight thereof abasht with secrete shame 

She tumd her head aside, as nothing glad 

To have beheld a spectacle so bad ; 

And then too well bekev'd that which tofore 

lealous suspect as true untruely drad : 

W^hich vaine conceipt now nourishing no more. 

She sought with ruth to salve his sad misfortunes sore. 



THE FAERIE QITEENE. 601 

Not SO great wonder and astonishment . 

Did the most chast Penelope possesse, 

To see her lord, that was reported drent 

And dead long since in dolorous distresse, 

Come home to her in piteous wretchednesse. 

After long travell of-fuli twenty yeares ; 

That she knew not his favours likelynesse. 

For many scarres and many hoary heares ; 

But stood long staring on him mongst uncertaine fearea. 

"Ah ! my deare lord, what sight is this," quoth she, 
** What mpy-game hath misfortune made of you ? 
Where is that dreadfull manly looke? where be 
Those mighty palmes, the which ye wont t' embrew 
In bloud of kings, and great hoastes to subdew? 
Could ought on earth so wondrous change have wrought 
As to have robde you of that manly hew? 
Could so great courage stouped have to ought ? 
Then farewell, fleshly force ; I see thy pride is nought T* 

Thenceforth she streight into a bowre him brought, 
And causd him those uncomely weedes undight ; 
And in their steede for other rayment sought, ^ 
Whereof there was great store, and armors bright. 
Which had bene reft from many a noble knight ; 
Whom that proud amazon subdewed had, 
Whilest fortune favourd her successe in fight 
In which whenas she him anew had clad. 
She was reviv'd, and ioyd much in his semblance glad. 

So there awhile they afterwards remained, 

Hini to refresh, and her late wounds to heale : 

During which space she there as princess rained; 

And changing all that forme of common-weale 

The liberty of women did repeale. 

Which they had long usurpt ; and, them restoring 

To mens subiection, did true iustice deale : 

That all they, as a goddesse, her adoring, 

Her wisedome did admire, and hearkned to her loring. 

For all those knights, which long in captive shade 

Had shrowded bene, she did from thraldome free; 

And magistrates of all that city made. 

And gave to them great living and large fee : 

And, that they should for ever faithfull bee, 

Made them sweare fealty to Artegall : 

Who when himselfe now well recur'd did see, 

He purposd to proceed, whatso befall, 

Uppon Lis first adventure which him forth did call. 



602 THE FiEEIE QXTEENB 

Fall sad and sorrowfall was Britomart^ 
For his departure, her new cause of griefe ; 
Yet wisely moderated her owne smart, ^ 
Seeing Ids honor, which she tendred chiefe, 
Consisted much in that adventures priefe : 
The care whereof, and hope of his successa. 
Gave unto her great comfort and rehefe ; 
That womanish complaints she did represse. 
And tempred for the time her present heavinesse. 

There she continu*cl for a certaine space, 

Till through his want her woe did more increase: 

Then, hoping that the change of aire and place 

Would change her paine and sorrow somewhat case 

She parted thence, her anguish to appease. 

Meane while her noble lord Sir Artegall 

Went on his way ; ne ever howre did cease. 

Till he redeemed had that lady thrall : 

That for another canto will more fitly fall. 



CANTO yni. 

Prince Arthnre and Sir Artegall 

Free Samient from feare : 
They slay the soudan; drive his wife, 

Adicia to despaire. 

KouGHT under heaven so strongly doth allure 
The sence of man, and all his minde possesso. 
As beauties lovely baite, that doth procure 
Great warriours oft their rigour to represse, 
And mighty hands forget their manhnesse ; 
Drawne with the powre of an heart-robbing eye. 
And wrapt in fetters of a golden tresse» 
That can with melting x)leasaunce mollifve 
Their hardned hearts enm^'d to bloud and cruelty. 

So whylome learnd that mighty Jewish swaine. 

Each of whose lockes did match a man in might. 

To lay his spoiles before his lemans traine : 

So also did that great Oetean knight 

For his loves sake his lions skin undight ; 

And so did warlike Antony neglect 

The worlds whole rule for Cleopatras sight. 

Such wondrous powre hath wemens faire aspect 

To captive men, and make them all the world reiect* 



THE FAESIE QUEEKB, 60Jj 

Yet could it not sterne Artegall retaine, 

Nor hold from suite of his avowed quests 

Which he had undertane to Gloriane ; 

Bat left his love (albe her strong request) 

Faire Britomart in languor and unrest, 

And rode himselfe uppon his first intent : 

Ne day nor night did ever idly rest ; 

JSTe wight but onely Talus with him went. 

The true guide of his way and vertuous government. 

So travelling, he chaunst far off to heed 

A damzell flying on a palfrey fast 

Before two knights that after her did speed 

With all their powre, and her full fiercely chast 

In hope to have her overhent at last : 

Yet fled she fast, and both them farre outwent. 

Carried with wings of feare, like fowle aghast, 

With locks all loose, and rayment all to rent ; 

And ever as she rode her eye was backeward bent, 

Soone after these he saw another knight. 

That after those two former rode apace 

With speare in rest, and prickt with all his might : 

So ran they all, as they had bene at bace. 

They being chased that did others chace. 

At length he saw the hindmost overtake ^ 

One of those two, and force him turne his face; . 

However loth he were his way to slake, 

Yet mote he algates now abide, and answere make. 

But th* other still pursu'd the feare full mayd; 

Who still from him as fast away did llie, 

ZSTe once for ought her speedy passage stayd, 

Till that at length she did before her spie 

Sir Artegall, to whom she streight did hie 

With gladfull hast, in hope of him to get 

Succour against her greedy enimy : 

Who seeing her approch gan forward set 

To save her from her feare, and him from force to let. 

But he, like hound full greedy of his pray, 

Bein^ impatient of impediment, 

Continu d still his course, and by the way 

Thought with his speare him quight have overwent. 

So both togetlier, yiike felly bent. 

Like fiercely met : but Artegall was stronger. 

And better skild in tilt and turnament. 

And bore him quite out of his saddle, longer [wronger : 

Then two speares length: so mischiefe over-malcht the 



601 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

And in Ms fall misfortune him mistooke ; 

For on his head unhnpi^ily he pight, 

That his owne waight his necke asunder broke. 

And left there dead. Meane while the other knight 

Defeated had the other faytour quight, 

And all his bowels in his body brast : 

Whom leaving there in that dispiteous plight. 

He ran still on, thinking to follow fast 

His other fellow pagan which before him past. 

Instead of whom finding there ready prest 

Sir Artegall, without discretion 

He at him ran with ready speare in rest: 

Who, seeing him come still so fiercely on. 

Against him made againe: so both anon 

Together met, and strongly either strooke 

And broke their speares ; yet neither has forgon 

His horses backe, yet to and fro long shooke [quooko. 

And tottred, like two towres which through a tempest 

But, when againe they had recovered sence. 

They drew their swords, in mind to make amends 

For what their speares bad fayld of their pretence: 

Which when the damzell, who those deadly ends 

Of both her foes had scene, and now her frends 

For her beginning a more fearef idl fray ; 

She to them runnes in hast, and her haire rends 

Crying to them their cruell hands to stay, 

IJntill they both do heare what she to them will say. 

They staj^d their hands ; when she thus gan to speake ; 
" Ah ! gentle knights, what meane ye thus unwise 
Upon yourselves anothers wrong to wreake? 
I am the wrong'd, whom ye did enterprise 
Both to redresse, and both redrest likewise : 
Witnesse the paynims both, whom ye may see 
There dead on ground; what doe ye then devise 
Of more revenge? if more, then I am shee 
Which was the roote of all ; end your revenge on me.** 

Whom when they heard so say, they lookt about 

To weete if it were true as she had told ; 

Where when they saw their foes dead out of doubt, 

Eftsoones they gan their wrothfuU hands to hold, 

And ventailes reare each other to behold. 

QI10, whenas Artegall did Arthure vew, 

So faire a creature and so wondrous bold, 

He much admired both his heart and hew. 

And touched with intire affection nigh him drew ; 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 605 

Saying, " sir knight, of pardon I you pray, 
That all unwceting have you wrong'd thus soro, 
SufFring my hand against my heart to stray • 
Which if ye please forgive, I will therefore 
Yeeld for amends myseife yours evermore, 
Or whatso penaunce shall by you be red.'* 
To whom the prince ; " certes me needeth moro 
To crave the same ; whom errour so misled, 
As that I did mistake the living for the ded. 

" But, sith ye please that both, our blames shall die, 14j 

Amends may for the trespasse'soone be made. 

Since neither is endamadg'd much thereby." ' 

So can they both themselves full eath perswade 

To faire accordaunce, and both faults to shade. 

Either embracing other lovingly, ^ 

And swearing faith to either on his blade, 

Never thenceforth to nourish enmity, 

But either others cause to maintaine mutually. 

Then Artegall gan of the prince enquire. 

What were those knights which there on ground were laya 

And had receiv'd their follies worthy hire. 

And for what cause they chased so that mayd. 

" Certes I wote not well," the prince then sayd, 

" But by adventure found them faring so, 

As by the way unweetingly I strayd. 

And lo ! the damzell selfe, whence all did grow, 

Of whom we may at will the whole occasion know." 

Then they that damzell called to them nie. 

And asked her, what were those two her fone. 

From whom she earst so fast away did flie ; 

And what was she herselfe so woe-begone. 

And for what cause pursu'd of them attone. 

To whom she thus ; " Then wote ye well, that I 

Doe serve a queene that not far hence doth wone, 

A princesse of great powre and maiestie, 

Famous through all the world, and honored far and nio, 

" Her name Mercilla most men use to call 

That is a mayden queene of high renowne. 

For her great bounty knowen over all 

And soveraine grace, with which her royall crowne 

She doth support, and strongly beateth downe 

The malice of her foes, which her envy 

And at her happinesse do fret and frowne ; 

Yet she herselfe the more doth magnify, 

And even to her foes her mercies multiply. 



606 THE FAEBIE QTTEENE. 

'' Mongst many 'vrhicli Tnaligne her liappy state. 
There is a mighty man, which wonnes here by, 
That with most fell despight and deadly hate 
Seekes to subvert her crovvne and dignity. 
And all his powre doth thereunto apply : 
And her good knights, (of which so brave a band 
Serves her as any princesse under sky,) 
He either spoiles, if they against him stand. 
Or to his part allures, and bribeth under hand. 

" 'Ne him sufficeth all the wrong and ill 

Which he unto her people does each day ; 

Bu^ that he seekes by trayterous traines to spill 

Her person, and her sacred selfe to slay: 

That, O ye heavens, defend ! and turne away 

From her unto the miscreant himselfe ; 

That neither hath religion nor fay, 

But makes his god of his ungodly pelfe. 

And idoles serves : so let his idols serve the elfel 

" To all ^hich cruell tyranny, they say. 

He is provokt, and stird up day and night 

By his bad wife that hight Adicia ; 

Who counsels him, through confidence of might. 

To breake all bonds of law and rules of right : 

For she herselfe professeth mortall foe 

To Justice, and against her still doth fight. 

Working, to all that love her, deadly woe. 

And making all her knights and people to doe so. 

" Which my liege lady seeing, thought it best 

With that his wife in friendly wise to deale 

For stint of strife and stablishment of rest 

Both to herselfe and to her common- weale. 

And all forepast displeasures to repeale. 

So me in message unto her she sent, 

To treat with her, by way of enterdeale. 

Of finall peace and faire attonement 

Which might concluded be by mutuall consent. 

'' All times have wont safe passage to afford 
To messengers that come for causes iust: 
But this proude dame, disdayning all accord, 
Not onely into bitter termes forth brust, 
Heviling me and rayling as she lust. 
But lastly, to make proofe of utmost shame, 
Me like a dog she out of dores did thrust. 
Miscalling me by many a bitter name, 
That never did her iii, ae once deserved blamo. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 607 

" And lastly, that no sliame might wanting be. 

When I was gone, soone after me she sent 

These two false knights, whom there ye lying see. 

To be by them dishonoured and shent : 

But, thankt be God, and your good hardiment ! 

They have the price of their owne folly payd." 

So said this damzell, that highb Samient ; 

And to those knights for their so noble ayd 

Herselfe most grateful! shewM, and heaped thanks ropayd. 

But they now having throughly heard and seene 

All those great wrongs, the which that mayd complained 

To have bene done against her lady queene 

By that proud dame, which her so much disdained, 

Were moved much thereat, and twixt them fained 

With all their force to worke avengement strong, 

Uppon the souldan selfe, which it mayntained, 

And on his lady, th' author of that wrong. 

And uppon all those knights that did to her belong. 

But, thinking best by counterfet disguise 

To their deseigne to make the easier way, 

They did this complot twixt themselves devise ; 

First, that Sir Artegall should him array 

Like one of those two knights which dead there layi 

And then that damzell, the sad Samient, 

Should as his purchast prize with him convay 

Unto the souldans court, her to present 

Unto his scornefull lady that for her had sent. 

So as they had deviz'd. Sir Artegall 
Him clad in th' armour of a pagan knight. 
And taking with him, as his vanquisht thrall. 
That damzell, led her to the souldans right: 
Where soone as his proud wife of her had sight. 
Forth of her window as she looking lay. 
She weened str eight it was her paynim knight, 
Which brought that damzell as his purchast pray; 
And sent to him a page that mote direct his way : 

Who, bringing them to their appointed place, 

Offred his service to disarme the knight ; 

But he refusing him to let unlace. 

For doubt to be discovered by his sight, 

Kept himselfe still in his straunge armour dight: 

Soone after whom the prince arrived there. 

And, sending to the souldan in despight 

A bold defyance, did of him requere 

That damsell whom he held as wrongfull prisonero. 



608 THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 

Wlierewitli tlie souldan all with furie fraught, 
Swearing and banning most blasphemously, 
Commaunded straight his armour to be brought j 
And, mounting straight upon a charret hye, 
With yron wheeles and hookes arm'd dreadfully. 
And drawne of cruell steedes which he had fed 
With flesh of men, whom through fell tyranny 
He slaughtred had, and ere they were halfe ded 
Their bodies to his beastes for provender did spred j 

So forth he came all in a cote of plate 
Burnisht with bloudie rust ; whiles on the greeno 
The Briton prince him readie did awayte 
In glistering armes right goodly well beseene, 
That shone as bright as doth the heaven sheene ; 
And by his stirrup Talus did attend, 
Playing his pages part, as he had beene 
Before directed by his lord ; to th' end 
He should his flaile to finall execution bend. 

Thus goe they both together to their geare 
With like fierce minds, but meanings different : 
Por the proud souldan, with presumptuous cheare 
And countenance sublime and insolent, 
Sought onely slaughter and avengement ; 
But the brave prince for honour and for right. 
Gainst tortious powre and lawlesse regiment. 
In the behalfe of wronged weake did tight : 
More in his causes truth he trusted then in might. 

Like to the Thracian tjrrant, who they say 

Unto his horses gave his guests for meat. 

Till he himselfe was made their greedie pray. 

And torne in pieces by Alcides great; 

So thought the souldan, in his follies threat. 

Either the prince in peeces to have torne 

With his sharpe wheeles in his first rages heat, 

Or under his tierce horses feet have borne, ^ 

And trampled downe in dust his thoughts disdained scomo^ 

But the bold child that perill well espying. 

If he too rashly to his charret drew, ^ 

Gave way unto his horses speedie fiying, 

And their resistlesse rigour did eschew : 

Yet, as he passed by, the pagan threw 

A shivering dart with so impetuous force. 

That, had he not it shunn*d with heedful vew, 

It had himselfe transfixed or his horse. 

Or made them both one masse withouten more remorse. 



THE I-AEBIE QUEENS. Wd 

Ofb drew the prince unto his charret nigh. 

In hope some stroke to fasten on him nearej 

Bat he was mounted in his seat so high, 

And his wing-footed coursers him did bcare 

So fast away, that, ere his readie speare 

He could advance, he f^rre was gone and past 

Yet still he him did follow every whfere. 

And followed was of him likewise fall fast. 

So long as in his steedes the flaming breath did last. 

Acraine the pagan threw; another dart, 
Of which he had with him abundant store 
On every side of his embatteld cart. 
And of all other weapons lesse or more. 
Which warlike uses had deviz'd of yore : 
The wicked shaft, guyded through th' ayrie wyde 
By some bad spirit that it to mischiefe bore, 
Stayd not, till through his curat it did glyde. 
And made a griesly wound in his enriven.side. 

Much was he grieved with that haplesse throe. 
That opened had the welspring of his blood ; 
But much the more that to his hatefull foe 
He mote not come to wreake his wrathf all mood : 
That made him rave, like to a lyon wood, 
Which being wounded of the huntsmans hand 
Cannot come neare him in the covert wood. 
Where he with boughes hath built his shady stand. 
And fenst himselfe about with many a flaming brand. 

Still when he sought t'approch unto him ny 

His charret wheeles about him whirled round. 

And made him backe againe as fast to fly; 

And eke his steedes, like to an hungry hound 

That hunting after game hath carrion found. 

So cruelly did him pursew and chace. 

That his good steed, all were he much renound 

For noble courage and for hardie race. 

Durst not endure their sight, but fled from place to places 

Thus long they trast and traverst to and fro. 

Seeking by every way to make some breach ; 

Yet cQuld the prince not nigh unto him goe, 

That one sure stroke he might unto him reach, 

Whereby his strengthes assay he might him teach: 

At last, from his victorious shield he drew 

The vaile, which did his powretuU light empeach ; 

And comming full before his horses vew, 

As they upon him prest, it plaine to them did shew 



610 THE FAEEIB QUEENE. 

Like ligliteninj^ flasli tliafc liatli tlie gazer burned. 
So did the siglit tliereof their sense dismay, 
That backe againe upon themseb^es they turned, 
And with their ryder ranne perforce away : 
Ne could the souldan them from flying stay 
"With raynes or wonted rule, as well he knew : 
JN'ought feared they what he could do or say, 
But th' onely feare that was before their vew ; 
From which like mazed deere dismayfully they flew* 

Fast did they fly as them there feete could beare 

High over hilles, and lowly over dales. 

As they were followed of their former feare : 

In vaine the pagan bannes, and sweares, and rayles, 

And backe with both his hands unto him hayles 

The resty raynes, regarded now no more : 

He to them calles and speakes, yet nought avayles ; 

They heare him not, they have forgot his lore ; 

But go which way they Hst ; their guide they have forlore. 

As when the firie-mouthed steedes, which, drew 
The sunnes bright wayne to Phaetons decay, 
Soone as they did the monstrous scorpion vew 
With ugly craples crawling in their way, 
The dreadfuU sight did them so sore affray, 
• That their well-knowen courses they forwent; 
And, leading th* ever burning lampe astray. 
This lower world nigh all to ashes brent. 
And left their scorched path yet in the firmament. 

Such, was th.e furie of these head-strong steeds, 

Soone as the infants sunlike shield they saw, 

That all obedience both to words and deeds 

They quite forgot, and scornd all former law 

Through woods, and rocks, and mountaines they did draw 

The yron chare t, and the wheel es did teare, 

And tost the paynim without feare or awe ; 

From side to side they tost him here and there. 

Crying to them in vaine that nould his crying heare. 

Yet still the prince purs ew'd bim close behind. 
Oft making offer him to smite, but found 
No easie meanes according to his mind : 
At last they have all overthrowne to ground 
Quite topside turvey, and the pagan hound 
Amongst the yron hookes and graples keene 
Torne all to rags, and rent with many a wound; 
That no whole peece of him was to be scene, 
But scattred all about, and strow'd upon the greene. 



THE FAEBIE QXTEENE. 611 

Like as the cnrsed sonne of Theseus, 

That follow ing his chace in dewy morne. 

To fly his stepdames love outrageous, 

Of his owne steedes was all to peeces torne. 

And his faire limbs left in the woods forlorne ; 

That for his sake Diana did lament, 

And all the woody nymphes did wayle and mournet 

So was this souldain rapt and all to rent. 

That of his shape, appear 'd no litle moniment. 

Onely his shield and armour, which there lay, 
Though nothing whole, but all to brusd and broken, 
He up did take, and with him brought away. 
That mote remaine for an eternall token 
To all, mongst whom this storie should be spoken, 
How worthily, by Heavens high decree, 
Justice that day of wrong herselfe had wroken; 
That all men, which that spectacle did see. 
By like ensample mote for ever warned bee. 

So on a tree, before the tyrants dore, 

Ete caused them be hung in all mens sight. 

To be a moniment for evermore, 

Which when his ladie from the castles hight 

Beheld, it much appald her troubled spright : 

Yet not, as women wont, in dolefuU fit 

She was dismay d, or faynted through affright. 

But gathered unto her her troubled wit. 

And gan eftsoones devize to be aveng'd for it. 

Streight downe she ranne, like an enraged COW 

That is berobbed of her youDgling dere. 

With knife in hand, and fatally did vow 

To wreake her on that mayden messengere. 

Whom she had causd be kept as prisonere 

By Artegall, misween'd for her owne knight, 

Tliat brought her backe : and, comming present there. 

She at her ran with all her force and might, 

All flaming with revenge and furious despight. 

Like raging Ino, when with knife in hand 

She threw her husbands murdred infant out; 

Or fdLMedea, when on Colchicke strand 

Her brothers bones she scattered all about; 

Or as that madding mother, mongst the rout 

Of Bacchus priests, her owne deare flesh did teare: 

Yet neither Ino, nor Medea stout, 

Nor all the Mocnadcs so furious were, 

As this bold woman when she saw that damzell there. 



613 THE FAEEIE QXTEENE. 

But Artegall being thereof aware 

Did stay Jier crueli hand ere she her ranght; 

And, as she did herselfe to strike prepare. 

Out of her fist the wicked weapon caught : 

With that, like one enfelon'd or distraught, 

She forth did rome whether her rage her bore. 

With franticke passion and with furie fraught ; 

And, breaking forth out at a posterne dore, 

Unto the wilde wood ranne, her dolours to deplores 

As a mad bytch, whenas the franticke fit 
Her burning tongue with rage inflamed hath. 
Doth runne at ran don, and with furious bit 
Snatching at everything doth wreake her wrath 
On man and beast that commeth in her path. 
There they doe say that she transformed was 
Into a tigre, and that tygres scath 
In crueltie and outrage she did pas, 
To prove her surname true, that she imposed has. 

Then Artegall, himselfe discovering plaine. 
Did issue forth gainst all that warlike rout 
Of knights and armed men, which did maintaine 
That ladies part and to the souldan lout : 
All which he did assault with courage stout, 
All were they nigh an hundred knights of name. 
And like wyld goates them chaced all about, 
Flying. from place to place with cowheard shame; 
So that with finall force them all he overcame. 

Then caused he the gates be opened wyde ; 
And there the prince, as victour of that day. 
With tryumph enter tayn and glorify de, 
Presenting him with all the rich array 
And roiall pompe, which there long hidden lay, 
Purchast through lawlesse powre and tortious wrong 
Of that proud souldan, whom he earst did slay. 
So both, for rest, there having stayd not long, 
Marcht with, that mayd : fit matter for another song. 



VES 7AEBIE QTTEEKB. 613 



CANTO rs. 

Arthur and Artegall catch Guylo 

Whom Talus doth dismay : 
They to Mercillaes pallace come. 

And see her rich array. 

What tygre, or what other salvage wiglit, 

I3 so exceeding furious and fell 

As wrong, when it hath arm'd itselfe with might P 

'Not fit mongst men that doe with reason mell, 

But mongst wyld beasts, and salvage woods, to dwell; 

Where still the stronger doth the weake devoure, 

And they that most in boldnesse doe excell 

Are dreadded most, and feared for their powre 

Fit for Adicia there to build her wicked bowre. 

There let her wonne, farre from resort of men, 
Where righteous Artegall her late exyled ; 
There let her ever keepe her damned den, 
Where none may be with her lewd parts defyled, 
!Nor none but beasts may be of her despoyled: 
And turns we to the noble prince, where late 
We did him leave, after that he had foyled 
The cruell souldan, and with dreadfull fate 
Had utterly subverted his unrighteous state. 

Where having with Sir Artegall a space 

Well solast in tliat souldans late delight. 

They both, resolving now to leave the place, 

Both it and all the wealth therein behight 

Unto that damzell in her ladies right. 

And so would have departed on their way : 

But she them woo'd, by all the meanes she might. 

And earnestly besought to wend that day 

With her, to see her ladie thence not farre away. 

By whose entreatie both they overcommen 

Agree to goe with her ; and by the way. 

As often falles, of sundry things did commen ; 

Mongst which that damzell did to them bewray 

A straunge adventure which not farre thence lay; 

To weet, a wicked villaine, bold and stout, 

Which wonned in a rocke not farre away. 

That robbed all the countrie thereabout, 

And brought the pillage home, whence none could get it out. 



614 THE FAEEIE QXJEEITE. 

Thereto both Ms owne wylie wit, she sayd, 
And eke the fastnesse of his dwelling place. 
Both unassaylable, gave him great a^^de: 
For he so crafty was to forge and face. 
So light of hand, and nymble of his pace, 
So smooth of tongue, and subtile in his tale. 
That could deceiA^e one looking in his face: 
Therefore by name Malengin they him call 
Well knowen by his feates, and famous over all. 

Through these his slights he many doth confound: 

And eke the rocke, in which he wonts to dwell. 

Is wondrous strong and hewn farre under ground, 

A dreadfull depth, how deepe no man can tell^ 

33ut some doe say it goeth downe to hell: 

And, all within, it full of wyndings is 

And hidden wayes that scarse an hound by smell 

Can follow out those false footsteps of his, 

Ne none can backe returne that once are gone amis. 

Which when those knights had heard, their hearts gan ^arne 

To understand that villems dwelling place. 

And greatly it desir'd of her to learne. 

And by which way they towards it should trace. 

** Were not," sayd she, " that it should let your pace 

Towards my ladies presence by you ment; 

I would you guyde directly to the place." 

** Then let not that," said they, " stay your intent ; 

Por neither will one foot, till we that carle have bent,** 

So forth they past, till they approched ny 
Unto the rocke where was the villains won: 
Which ■v^'hen the damzell neare at hand did spy. 
She warn'd the knights thereof: who thereupon 
Gan to advize what best were to be done. 
So both agreed to send that mayd afore. 
Where she might sit nigh to the den alone, 
Wayling, and raysing pittifull uprore, 
As if she did some great calamitie deplore. 

With noyse whereof whenas the caytive carle 

Should issue forth, in hope to find some spoyle. 

They in awayt would closely him ensnarle. 

Ere to his den he backward could recoyle; 

And so would hope him easily to foyle. 

The damzeU straight went, as she was directed. 

Unto the rocke; and there, upon the soy le 

Having herselfe in wretched wize abiected, 

Gan weepe and wayle as if great griefe had her affectecL 




♦'When he did view 
The armed knights stopping his passage by, 
He threw his burden down, and fast away did fly." 

Book V. Canto IX. Verse 14 



THE PAEEIE QUEENE. 615 

The cry whereof entring the hollow cave 

EPtsoones brought forth the villaine, as they ment. 

With hope of her some wishfull boot to have; 

Full dreadfuU wight he was as ever went 

Upon the earth, with hollow eyes deepe pent, 

And long curld locks that downe his shoulders shag^^ed, 

And on his backe an uncouth vestiment 

Made of straunge stuffe, but all to worne and ragged. 

And underneath his breech was all to torne and lagged. 

And in his hand an huge long stafFe he held. 

Whose top was arm'd with many an yron hookey 

Pit to catch hold of all that he could weld. 

Or in the compasse of his cloutches tooke; 

And ever round about he cast his looke: 

Ala at his backe a great wyde net he bore. 

With which he seldom fished at the brooke. 

But usd to fish for fooles on the dry shore, 

Of which he in faire weather wont to take great store. 

Him when the damzell saw fast by her side. 

So ugly creature, she was nigh dismay d: 

And now for helpe aloud in earnest cride: 

Bat, when the villaine saw her so affray d. 

He gan with guilefuU words her to perswado 

To banish feare ; and with Sardonian smyle 

Laughing on her, his false intent to shade, 

Gan forth to lay his bayte her to beguyle, 

That from herself unwares he might her steale the whyle. 

Like as the fouler on his guile full pype 
Cliarmes to the birds full many a pleasant lay, 
That they the whiles may take lesse heedie keepe 
How he his nets doth for their mine lay, 
So did the villaine to her prate and play, 
And many pleasant trickes before her show. 
To turne her eyes from his intent away: 
For he in slights and iugling feates did flow, 
And of legierdemayne the mysteries did know. 

To which whilest she lent her intentive mind. 

He suddenly his net upon her threw. 

That oversprad her like a puffe of wind; 

And snatching her soone up, ere well she knew 

Ban with her fast away unto his mew. 

Crying for helpe aloud: but whenas ny 

He came unto liis cave, and there did vew 

The armed knights stopping his pasage by. 

He threw his burden downe and fast away did fly. 



616 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

33 ut Artegall Mm after did pursew; 

Tlie wJiiles the prince there kept the entrance still: 

Up to the rocke he ran, and thereon flew 

Like a wyld gote, leaping from- hill to hill. 

And dauncing on the crag'sry oliffes at will ; 

That deadly daunger seem'd in all mens sight 

To tempt such steps, where footing was so ill : 

"Ne ought avayled for the armed knight 

To thinke to follow him that was -so swift and hght» 

Whicli when he saw, his yron man he sent 

To follow him ; for he was swift in chace : 

He him pursewd wherever that he went ; 

Both over rockes, and hiUes, and every place 

Whereso he fled, he followed him apace : 

So that he shortly forst him to forsake 

The hight, and downe descend unto the base : 

There he him courst afresh, and soone did make 

To leave his proper forme, and other shape to take. 

Into a foxe himselfe he first did tourne ; 

But he him hunted like a foxe full fast : 

Then to a hush himselfe he did transforms; 

But he the bush did beat, till that at last 

Into a bird it chaung'd, and from him past, 

Flying from tree to tree, from wand to wand: 

But he then stones at it so long did cast. 

That like a stone it fell upon the land ; 

But he then tooke it up, and held fast in his hand. 

So he it brought with him imto the knights, 

And to his lord Sir Artegall it lent, 

AVarning him hold it fast for feare of slights 2 

\Yho whilest in hand it gryping hard he iientj 

Into a hedgehogge all un wares it went, 

And prickt him so that he away it threw: 

Then gan it runne away incontinent, 

Beinff returned to his former hew; 

But Talus soone him overtooke, and backward drew. 

But, whenas he would to a snake againe 

Have turn'd himselfe, he with his yron flayle^ 

Gan drive at him with so huge might and maine. 

That all his bones as small as sandy grayle 

He broke, and did his bowels disentrayle. 

Crying in vaine for helpe, when helpe was past; 

So did deceipt the selfe-deceiver fayle : 

There they him left a carrion outcast 

JFor beasts and foules to feede upon for their repast. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 617 

Tlience forth they passed with that gentle mayd 

To see her ladie, as they did agree : 

To which when she approched, thus she say^ ; 

" Loe now, right noble knights, arri^'d ye i;eo 

Isigb to the place which ye desir'd to see : 

Tiiere shall ye see my soverayne lady queene. 

Most sacred wight, most debonayre and free. 

That ever yet upon this earth was seene. 

Or that with diademe hath ever crowned beene.** 

The gentle knights reioyced much to heare 

The prayses of that prince so manifold ; 

And, passing Htle further, commen were 

Where they a stately pallace did behold 

Of pompous show, much more then she had told, 

"With many towres and t arras mounted hye, 

And all their tops bright glistering with gold. 

That seem'd to out-shine the dimmed skye, [eye. 

And with their brightnesse daz'd the straunge beholders 

There they alighting, by that damzell were 

Directed in, and shewed aU the sight ; 

Whose porch, that most magnificke did appeare. 

Stood open wyde to all men day and night ; 

Yet warded well by one of mickle migiit 

That sate thereby, with gyant-like resemblance. 

To keepe out guyle, and malice, and despight, 

That under shew oft-times of fayned semblance [dranco : 

Are wont in princes courts to worke great scath and hia- 

His name was Awe ; by whom they passing in 

Went up the hall, that was a large wyde roome. 

All full of people making troublous din 

And wrondrous noyse, as if that there were some 

Which unto them was dealing righteous doome : 

Ey whom they passing through the thickest preasso. 

The marshall of the hall to tbem did come, 

His name hight Order ; who, commaunding peace, [ceasse. 

Them guyded through the throng, that did their clamours 

They ceast their clamors upon them to gaze ; 
Whom seeing all in armour bright as day, 
Straunge there to see, it did them much amaze. 
And with unwonted terror halfc affray: 
For never saw they there the like array; 
Ne ever was the name of warre there spoken. 
But ioyous peace and quietnesse alway 
Dealing iust iudgments, that mote not be broken 
For any brybes, or threat^s of any to be wroken. 



618 THE FAEBIE QXTEENE. 

There, as tliey entred at the scriene, tliey saw 

Some one, whose tongue was for his trespasse vylo 

ISTayJd to a post, adiudged so by law; 

For that therewith he falsely did revyle 

And foule blaspheme that queen e for forged gu^de, 

Both with bold speaches which he blazed had, 

And with lewd poems which he did compyle ; 

For the bold title of a poet bad 

He on himselfe had ta'en, and rayling rymes had sprad. 

Thus there he stood, whylest high over his head 

There written was the purport of his sin, 

In cyphers strange, that few could rightly read, 

JBon Fons; but 13on, that once had written bin. 

Was raced out, and Mai was now put in : 

So now Malfont was plainely to be red ; 

Eyther for th' evill which he did therein. 

Or that he likened was to a welhed 

Of evill words, and wicked sclaiinders by him shed. 

Tliey, passing by, were guyded by degree 
Unto the presence of that gratious queene ; 
Who sate on high, that she might all men seo 
And might of all men royally be scene, 
Upon a throne of gold full bright and sheene. 
Adorned all with gemmes of endlesse price, 
As either might for wealth have gotten beene, 
Or could be fram'd by workmans rare device ; 
And all embost with lyons and with flourdelice. 

All over her a cloth of state was spred, 

Not of rich tissew, nor of cloth of gold, 

Nor of ought else that may be richest red. 

But like a cloud, as likest may be told, 

That her brode-spreading wings did w>^de unfold ; 

Whose skirts were bordred with bright sunny beames, 

Glistring like gold among the plights enrold. 

And here and there shooting forth silver streames, [gleames. 

Mongst which crept litle angels through the glittering 

Seemed those litle angels did uphold 

The cloth of state, and on their purpled wings 

Did beare the pendants through their nimblesse bold 5 

Besides, a thousand more of such as sings 

Hymns to high God, and carols heavenly things. 

Encompassed the throne on which she sate ; 

She, angel-like, the heyre of ancient kings 

And mightie conquerors, in royall state ; 

Whylest kings and kesars at her feet did them prostrate. 



THE FAEETE QtTEENE, 619 

TIiiis she did sit in soverayne maiestie. 

Holding a scepter in her royal I hand, 

The sacred pledge of peace and clemencie, 

With which High God had blest her happie land, 

Maugre so many foes which did withstand : 

But at her feet her sword was likewise layde, 

Whose long: rest rusted the bright steely brand ; 

Yet whenas foes enforst, or friends sought ayde, 

She could it sternely draw, that all the world dismayde. 

And round about before her feet there sate 

A bevie of faire virgins clad in white, 

TJiat goodly seem'd t'adorne her royall states 

All lovely daughters of high love, that hight 

Litse, by him begot in loves delight 

Upon the righteous Themis ; those they say 

Upon loves iudgment-seat wayt day and night; 

And, when in wrath he threats the worlds decay. 

They doe his anger calme and crueU vengeance stay# 

They also doe, by his divine permission. 
Upon the thrones of mortaU princes tend, 
And often treat for pardon and remission 
To suppliants, through frayltie which offend; 
Those did upon Mercillaes throne attend, 
lust Dice, wise Eunomie, myld Eirene ; 
And them amongst, her ^lorie to commend. 
Sate goodly Temperance in garments clene. 
And sacred Eeverence yborne of heavenly strene. 

Thus did she sit in royaU rich estate, 

Admyr*d of many, honoured of all ; 

Whylest underneath her feete, there as she sate. 

An huge great lyon lay, (that mote appall 

An hardie courage,) like captived thrall 

With a strong yron chaine and coller bound. 

That once he could not move, nor quich at all ; 

Yet did he murmure with rebelhous sound. 

And softly royne, when salvage choler gan redound. 

So sitting high in dreaded soverayntie, 

Those two strange knights were to her presence brought; 

Who, bowing low before her maiestie. 

Did to her myld obeysance, as they ought, 

And meekest boone that they imagine mought : 

To whom she eke inclyning her withall. 

As a faire stoupe of her high-soaring thought, 

A chearefull countenance on them let fall, 

Yet tempred with some maiestie imperiall. 



620 THE PAEEIE QUEENE. 

As the bri^lit sunne, what time his fierie teme 

Towards the westerne brim begins to draw. 

Gins to abate the brightnesse of his heme. 

And fervour of his flames somewhat adaw 

So did this mightie ladie, when she saw 

Those two strange knights such homage to her malco^ 

Bate somewhat of that maiestie and awe 

That whylome wont to doe so many quake, 

And with more myld aspect those two entertake. 

"Now at that instant, as occasion fell, ^ 

When these two stranger knights arrived in place, 

She was about affaires of common-wele. 

Pealing of iustice with indifferent grace. 

And hearing pleas of people mean and base : 

Mongst which, as then, there was for to be heard 

The tryall of a great and weightie case. 

Which on both sides was then debatmg hard : 

But, at the sight of these, those were awhile debard. 

But, after all her princely entertayne. 

To th' hearing of that former cause in hand 

Herselfe eftsoones she gan convert againe ; * 

Which that those knights likewise mote understand. 

And witnesse forth aright in forrain land, 

Taking them up unto her stately throne. 

Where they mote heare the matter throughly scand 

On either part, she placed th* one on th* one, 

Th* other on th' other side, and neare them none. 

Then was there. brought, as prisoner to the barre, 
A ladie of great countenance and place. 
But that she it with foule abuse did marre ; 
Yet did appeare rare beautie in her face, . 
But blotted with condition vile and base. 
That all her other honour did obscure. 
And titles of nobilitie deface : 
Yet, in that wretched semblant, she did sure 
The peoples great compassion unto her allure. 

Tlien up arose a person of deepe reach. 

And rare in-sight, hard matters to revele ; 

That well could charme his tongue, and time his speacli 

To all assayes ; his name was called Zele: 

He gan that lady strongly to appele 

Of many haynous crymes by her enured; 

And with sliarp reasons rang her such a pele. 

That those, whom she to pitie had allured. 

He now t* abhorre and loath her person had procured. 



THE FAEEIB QUEENE. 621 

First gan he tell how this, that seem'd so faire 
And royally arayd, Daessa liiglit; 
Tliafc false I)aessa, whicii had wrought great cai'e 
And mickle mischiefe unto many a knighfc 
By her beguyled and confounded quiglit : 
But not for those she now in question came. 
Though also those mote question'd be ariglit, 
But for vyld treasons and outrageous shame. 
Which she against the dred MerciHa oft did frame. 

For she whylome (as ye mote yet right well 

Kemember) had her counsels false consp>Ted 

With faithlcsse Biandamour and Parideil, 

(Both two her paramours, both by her hyred, 

And both with hope of shadowes vaine inspyred,) 

And with them practiz'd, how for to depryve 

Mercilla of her crowne, by her aspyred. 

That she might it unto herselfe dery ve, 

And tryumph in their blood whom she to death did drvve. 

But through high heavens grace, which favour not 

The wicked driftes of trayterous desynes 

Gainst loiall princes all this cursed plot 

Ere proofc it tooke discovered was betymes, 

And th' aotours won the meede meet for their crymes : 

Such be the meede of all that by such means 

Unto the tvpe of kiugdomes title clymes ! 

But false Duessa, now untitled queene, 

Was brought to her sad doome, as here was to be scene. 

Strongly did Zele her haynous fact enforce. 
And many other crimes of foule defame 
Against her brought, to banish all remorse, 
And aggravate the horror of her blame : 
And with him, to make part against her, came 
Many grave persons that against her pled. 
First was a sage old syre, tliat had to name 
The Kingdomes Care, with a white silver hed, 
That many high regards and reasons gainst her red. 

Then gan Authority her to oppose 
With peremptorie powre, that made all mute; 
And then the Law of Nations gainst her rose. 
And reasons brouglit, that no man could refute j 
Next gan iijligion gainst her to impute 
lligii Gods beheast, and powro of holy lawes; 
Then gan the Peoples Cry and Commons Sute 
Importune care of their ovvne publicke cause ; 
And lastly lustice charged her with breach of lawes. 



622 THE TAEEIE QXTEENE. 

Eut tlien, for lier, on the contrarie part, 

Hose many advocates for lier to plead : 

First there came Pittie with full tender hart, 

And with her io.vn'd Kegard of Womanhead ; 

And then came Daungei* threatning hidden dread 

And high alliance unto forren powre; 

Then came Nobilitie of Birth, that bread ^ 

Great ruth through her misfortunes tragicke stowre ; 

And lastly Griefe did plead, and many teares forth powre. 

With the neare touch whereof in tender hart 
The Briton prince was sore empassionate. 
And woxe inclined much unto her part, 
Through the sad terror of so dreadful fate. 
And w I etched mine of so high estate; 
That for great ruth his courage gan relent : 
Which \^ henas Zele perceived to abate. 
He gan his earnest fervour to augment. 
And many fearefull obiccts tp them to preseat. 

He gan t' efibrce the evidence anew, 

And new accusements to produce in place: 

He brought forth that old hag of hellish he^ 

The cursed Ate, brought her face to face. 

Who privie v> as and partie in the case: 

She, glad of spoyle and ruinous decay, 

Hid her appeach; and, to her more disgrace. 

The plot of all her practise did display, 

And all her traynes an(J all her treasons forth, did lay. 

Then brouglit lie forth with griesly grim aspect 
Abhorred Murder, who with bloudie knyfe 
Yet dropping fresh in hand did her detect. 
And there with guiltie bloudshed charged ryfe: 
Then brought he forth Sedition, breedjng stryfe 
In troublous wits and mutinous uprore : 
Then brought he forth Incontinence of lyfe. 
Even foule Adulterie her face before, 
And lewd Impietie, that her accused sore. 

All which whenas the prince had heard and seene 

His former fancies ruth he gan repent. 

And from her partie eftsoones was drawncleene 

But Artegall, with constant firme intent 

For zcale of iustice, was against her bent: 

So was she guiltie deemed of them all. 

Then Zele began to urge her punishment. 

And to their queen e for iudgement loudly call. 

Unto Mercilla myld, for iufitice gainst the thrall* 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 623 

But she, whose princely breast was toucTied nearo 
With piteous ruth of her so wretched plight, 
Though plaine she saw, by all that she did heare. 
That she of death was guiltie found by right. 
Yet would not let iust vengeance on her light ; 
Bat rather let, instead thereof, to fall 
Few perling drops from her faire lampes of light; 
The which she covering with her purple pall 
Would have the passion hid, and up arose withalL 



CAITTO X. 

Prince Arthur takes the cnterpize 

For Belgee for to fight: 
Gerioneos seneschall 

He slays in Beiges right. 

Some clarkes doe doubt in their devicefull art 

Whether this heavenly thing whereof I treat. 

To weeten mercie, be of iustice part. 

Or drawne forth from her by divine extreatet 

This weU I wote, that sure she is as great. 

And meriteth to have as high a place, 

Sith in th* Almighties everlasting seat 

She first was bred, and borne of heavenly race ; 

From thence pour'd down on men by influence of grace. 

For if that vertuo be of so great might 
Which from iust verdict wUl for nothing start. 
But, to preserve inviolated right, 
Oft spilles the principall to save the part ; 
So much more then is that of powre and art 
That seekes to save the subiect of her skill. 
Yet never doth from doome of right depart; 
As it is greater prayse to save then spill. 
And better to reforme then to cut off the ill. 

Who then can thee, Mercilla, throughly prayse. 

That herein doest all earthly princes pas ?i 

What heavenly muse shall thy great honour rayse 

Up to the skies, whence first deriv'd it was. 

And now on earth itselfe enlarged has. 

From th* utmost brinke of the Armericke shore. 

Unto the margent of the Molucas P 

Those nations farre thy iustice doe adore ; 

But thine owne people do thy mercy prayse much more. 



624i THE FAERIE QtTEENE. 

Mucli more it praysed was of tliose two kniglits. 

The noble prince and righteous Artegall, 

When they had seene and heard her doome arights 

Against Duessa, damned by them all ; 

But by her tempred without griefe or gall, 

Till strong constraint did her thereto enforce: 

And yet even then rumg her wilfull fall 

With more then needfull naturall remorse. 

And yeelding the last honour to her wretched corse* 

During all which, those knights continu'd there 
Both doing and receiving curtesies 
Of that great ladie, who with goodly chero 
Them entertayn*d fit for their dignities. 
Approving dayly to their noble eyes 
iRoyall examples of her mercies rare 
And worthie paterns of her xjlemencies ; 
Which till this day mongst many living are. 
Who them to their posterities doe still declare 

Amongst the rest which in that space befell. 
There came two springalls of full tender yeares, 
Parre thence from forrein land where they did dwell 
To seete for succour of her and her peares. 
With humble prayers and intreatfull teares ; 
Sent by their mother who, a widow, was 
Wrapt in great dolours and in deadly feares 
By a strong tyrant, who invaded has 
Her land, and slaine her children ruefully, alas! 

Her name was Beige ; who, in former age 

A ladie of great worth and wealth had beene. 

And mother of a frutefull heritage, ^ 

Even seventeene goodly sonnes ; which who had seene 

In their first flowre, before this fatall teene 

Them overtooke and their faire blossomes blasted. 

More happie inother would her surely weene 

Then famous Niobe, before she tasted 

Latonaes childrens wrath that aU her issue wasted. 

But this fell tyrant, through his tortious powre. 

Had left her now but five of all that brood: 

For twelve of them he did hy times devoure. 

And to his idols sacrifice their blood, 

Whylest he of none was stopped nor withstood 

Por soothly he was one of matchlesse might. 

Of horrible aspect and dreadfull mood. 

And had three bodies in one wast empight, 

And th' armes and legs of threa to succour him in fight* 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 625 

And sooth they say that he was borne and bred 

or gyants race, the sonne of Geryon ; 

He that whylome in Spaine so sore was cred 

For his huge powre and great oppression, 

Wliich brought that land to his subiection, 

Through his three bodies powre in one combyn'dj 

And eke all strangers, in that region 

Arryving, to his kyne for food assynd; 

The fayrest kyne alive, but of the fiercest tynd: 

!For they were all, they say, of purple hew, 

Xept by a cowheard, hight Eurytion, 

A crueil carle, the which all strangers slew, 

Ne day nor niglit did sleepe t' attend them on, 

But walkt about them ever and anone 

With his two-headed dogge that Orthrus hight 

Ortbrus begotten hy great Typhaon 

And foule Echidna in the house of iN'ight : 

But Hercules them all did overcome in fight. 

His Sonne was this Geryoneo hisrht ; 

Who, after that his monstrous father fell 

Under Alcides club, streight tooke his flight 

From that sad land, where he his syre did quell, 

And came to this, where Beige then did dwell 

And flourish in all wealth and happinesse. 

Being then new made widow, as befell. 

After Ler noble husbands late decesse; 

Which gave beginning to her woe and wretchedness*^ 

Then this bold tyrant, of her widowhed 
Taking advantage and her yet fresh woes, 
Himselfe and service to her offered. 
Her to defend ag inst all forrein foes ^ 
That should their powre against her right oppose: 
Whereof she glad, now needing strong defence. 
Him entertayn'd and did her champion chose; 
Which long he usd with carefull diligence, 
The better to confirme her fearelesse confidence. 

By meanes whereof she did at last commit 
Ail to his hands, and gave him soveraine powre 
To doe whatever he thought good or fit : 
Which having got, he gan forth from that howre 
To stirre up strife and many a tragicke stowrei 
Giving hei> dearest children one by one 
Unto a dreadfull monster to devoure. 
And setting up an idole of his owne, 
The image of his monstrous pai'cut Creryone 



626 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

So tyrannizing and oppressing all, 

The woefull wid<;w had no meanes now lefl. 

Bat unto gratious great Mercilla call 

For ayde against that cruell tyrants theft;. 

Ere all her cliildren he from her had reft : 

Therefore these two, her eldest sonnes, she sent 

To seeke for succour of this ladies gieft : 

To whom their sute they humbly did present 

In th' hearing of full many knights and ladies gent. 

Amongst the which then fortuned to bee 
The noble Briton prince x^ith his brave peare ; 
Who when he none of all those knights did see 
Hastily bent that enterprise to heare, 
IsTor imdertake the same for cowheard feare, 
He stepped forth with courage bold and great, 
Admyr'd of all the rest in presence there, 
^nd humbly gan that mightie queene entreat 
To graunt him that adventure for his former feat. 

She glaclly graunted it : then he straightway 

Himselfe unto his iourney gan prepare.! 

And all his armours readie dight that day, 

That nought the morrow next mote stay his fare. 

The morrow next appear 'd with purple ha3rre 

Yet dropping fresh out of the Indian fount. 

And bringing light into the heavens fayre. 

When he was readie to his steede to mount 

Unto his way, which now was all his care and count. 

Then taking humble leave of that great queene. 

Who gave him roial giftes and riches rare. 

As tokens of her thankefull mind beseene. 

And leaving Artegall to his owne care. 

Upon his voyage forth he gan to fare 

With those two gentle youth es, which him did guide 

And all his way before him still prepare : 

iNc after him did Artegall abide, 

But on Lis first adventure forward forth did ride. 

Tfc was not long till that the prince arrived 

Within the land where dwelt that ladie sad; 

Whereof that tyrant had her now deprived. 

And into moores and marshes banisht had. 

Out of the pleasant soyle and citties glad, 

In which she wont to harbour happily: 

But now his cruelty so sore she drad. 

That to those fennes for fastnesse she did fly. 

And there herseli' did hyde from hia hard tyranny* 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 627 

Tliere he lier found in sorrow and dismay. 

All solitarie without Hving wight ; 

For all her other children, through affray, 

Had hid themselves, or taken further flight : ^ 

And eke herselfe through sudden strange affright. 

When one in armes she saw, began to fly ; ^ 

But, when her owne two sonnes she had in sight, 

She gan take hart and looke up ioyfuUy; 

!For well she wist this knight came succour to supply. 

And, runninc: unto them with greedy ioyes, 

Fell straight about their neckes as- they did kneel e, 

And bursting forth in teares ; " Ah ! my sweet boyea,** 

Sayd she, ** yet now I gin new life to feele; 

And feeble spuits, that gan faint and reel e, 

Now rise againe at this your ioyous sight. 

Alreadie seemes that fortunes headlong wheele 

Begins to turne, and sunne to shine more bright 

Then it was wont, through comfort of this noble knight." 

Then turning unto him ; " And you, sir knight," 

Said she, ** that taken have this toylesome J)ain0 

For wretched woman, miserable wight, 

May you in heaven immortall guerdon gaine 

For so great travell as you doe sustaine I 

For other meede may hope for none of mee, 

To whom nought else but bare life doth remaine ; 

And that so wretched one, as ye do see 

Is liker lingring death then loathed life to bee.** 

IMuch was he moved with her piteous plight; 
And low dismounting from his loftie steede 
Gan to recomfort her all that he might, 
Seeking to drive away deepe-rooted dreede 
With hope of helpe in that her greatest neede. 
So thence he wished her with him to wend 
Unto some place where they mote rest and feedo. 
And she take comfort which God now did send : 
Good hart in evils doth the evils much amend. 

** Ay me !" sayd she, " and whither shall I goeP 

Are not all places full of forraine powres ? 

!My pallaces possessed of my foe. 

My cities sackt, and their sky-threatning towres 

Traced and made smooth fields now full of llowrcS? 

Onely these marishes and myrie bogs. 

In which the fearefull ewftes do build their bowrea 

Yeeld me an hostry mongst the croking frogs. 

And harbour here in safety from those ravenous dogB, 



628 THE FAEKIE QTTEENE. 

" IN'atlilesse," said he, " deare ladie, witli me goe; 

Some place sliall us receive and harbour yield ; 

If not, we will it force, maugre your foe. 

And purchase it to us with speare and shield: 

And if all fayle, yet farewell open field ! 

The earth to all her creatures lodging lends." 

With such his chearefull speaches he doth wield 

Her mind so well, that to his will she bends ; [wends. 

And, bynding up her locks and weeds, forth with him 

They came unto a citie farre up land, 

The which whylome that ladies owne had bene ; 

But now by force extort out of her hand 

By her strong foe, who had defaced cleene 

Her stately towres and buildings sunny sheene. 

Shut up her haven, mard her marchants trade, 

Robbed her people that full rich had beene, 

And in her neclce a castle huge had made. 

The which did her commaund without needing perswade. 

That castle was the strength of all that state, 
Untill that state* by stren<ith was pulled do wne; 
And that same citie, so now ruinate, 
Had bene the keye of all that kingdomes crowne; 
Both goodly castle, and both goodly towne. 
Till that th' offended heavens list to lowre 
Upon their blisse, and baleful 1 fortune fro wne. 
"When those gainst states and kingdomes do coniure, 
Who then can thinke their hedlong ruine to recure ! 

But he had brought it now in servile bond. 

And made it beare the yoke of inquisition, 

Stryving long time in vaine it to withstond ; , 

Yet glad at last to make most base submission. 

And life enioy for any composition : 

So now he hath new lawes and orders new 

Imposd on it with many a hard condition. 

And f reed it, the honour that is dew 

To God, to doe unto his idole most untrew. 

To him he hath before this castle greene 

Built a faire chappell, and an altar framed 

Of costly ivory full rich beseene. 

On which that cursed idole, farre proclamed, 

He hath set up, and him his prod hath named; 

OfTring to h'ra in sinful! sacrifice 

The flesh cf UK^n. to Gods owne likcnesse framed. 

And powringibrih their bloud in brutishe wize, 

That iLnj yrua eyes, to sec, it would agrize. 



THE FAEKIE QUEENS. 629 

And, for more horror and more crueltie. 

Under that cursed idols altar-stone 

An hideous monster doth in darknesse lie, 

Whose dreadfull shape was never seene of none 

That lives on earth; but imto those alone 

Tlie which unto him sacrificed bee : 

Those he devoures, they say, both flesh and bone ; 

What else they have is all the tyrants fee : 

So that no whit of them remayning one may see. 

There eke he placed a strong garrisone. 

And set a seneschall of dreaded might. 

That by his powre oppressed every one, 

And vanquished all venturous knights in fight ; 

To whom he wont shew all the sharae he might, 

After that them in battell he had wonne : 

To which when now they gan approch in sight, 

The ladie counseld him the place to shonne, 

Whereas so many knights had fouly bene fordonne. 

Her fearefuU sp caches nought he did regard ; 

But, ryding streight under the castle wall. 

Called aloud unto the watchfull ward 

Which there did wayte, willing them forth to call 

Into the field their tyrants seneschall : 

To whom when tydings thereof came, he streight 

Cals for his armes, and arming him withall 

Eftsoones forth pricked proudly in his might, 

And gan with courage fierce addresse him to the fight. 

They both encounter in the middle plaine, 

And their sharpe spearcs doe both together smite 

Amid their shields with so huge might and niaine, 

That seem'd their soules they would have ryven quight 

Out of their breasts with furious despight : 

Yet could the seneschals no entrance find 

Into the princes shield where it empight, ' 

iSo pure the metall was and well refynd,) 
5ut shivered all about, and scattered in the wynd. 

"Not so the princes ; but with restlesse forco 

Into his shield it readie passage found. 

Both through his haberieon and eke his corse ; 

Which tombling downe upon the senselesse ground 

Gave leave unto his ghost from thraldome bound 

To wander in the griesly shades of night : 

There did the prince him leave in deadly swound, 

And thence unto the castle marched rif^ht, 

To Bee if entrance there as yet obtaino he might. 



630 THE FAEBIE QTTEEKE. 

Bat, as lie niglier drew, tliree kniglits lie spyde, 
All arm'd to point issuing forth apace, 
Which towards him with all their powro did rydoj 
And meeting him right in the middle race 
Did all their speares attonce on him enchace. 
As tliree great culverings for batterie bent. 
And leveld all against one certaine place, 
Doe all attonce their thunders rage forthrent, 



So all attonce they on the prince did thonder ; 

Who from his saddle swarved nought asyde, 

"Ne to their force gave way, that was great wonder j 

But like a bulwarke firmely did abyde, 

Hebutting him, which in the midst did ryde, 

With so huge rigour, that his mortall speare^ 

Past through his shield and pierst through either syde $ 

That downe he fell uppon his mother deare, 

And powred forth his wretched life in deadly dreare. 

Whom when his other fellowes saw, they fled 

As fast as feete could carry them away; 

And after them the prince as swiftly sped. 

To be aveng'd of their unknightly play. 

There, whilest they entring th' one did th' other stay. 

The hindmost in the gate he overhent, 

And, as he pressed in, him there did slay : 

His carkasse tumbling on the threshold sent 

His groning soule unto her place of punishment. 

The other which was entred laboured fast 

To sperre the gate ; but that same lumpe of clay, 

Whose grudging ghost was thereout fled and past, 

Hight in the middest of the threshold lay. 

That it the posterne did from closing stay: 

The whiles the prince hard preased in betweene. 

And entraunce wonne : streight th' other fled away. 

And ran into the hall, where he did weene 

Himselfe to save ; but he there slew him at the skreene. 

Then all the rest which in that castle were. 

Seeing that sad ensample them before, 

Durst not abide, but fled away for feare. 

And them convayd out at a posterne dore. 

Long sought the prince ; but, when he found no more 

T' oppose against his powre, he forth issued 

Unto that lady, where he her had lore, 

And her gan clieare with what she there had vewed. 

And, what she had not scene within, xmto her shewed: 



THE FAEEIE QUEEN E. ^31 

Who witli rigM humble tha,nlres him goodly greeting 
For so great prowesse as he there had proved, 
Much greater then was ever in her wee ting, 
With great admiraunce inwardly was moved. 
And honourd him with all that her behoved. 
Thenceforth into that castle he her led 
With her two sonnes right deare of her beloved ; 
Where all that night themselves they cherished, 
And from her baleful! minde all care he banished. 



CATTTO XL 

Prince Artlmre overcomes the great 

Gerioneo iu light : 
Doth slay the monster, and restore 

Belg6 unto her right. 

It often fala, in course of common life, 

That right long time is overborne of wrong 

Through avarice, or powre, or guile, or strife, 

That weakens her, and makes her party strong: 

But iustice, though her dome she doe prolong, 

Yet at the last she will her owne cause right : 

As by sad Beige seemes ; whose wrongs though lon^ 

She sufFred, yet at length she did requight, 

And sent redresse thereof hy this brave Briton knight. 

Whereof when newes was to that tyrant brought. 

How that the lady Beige now had found 

A champion, that had with his champion fought^ 

And laid his seneschall low on the ground. 

And eke himselfe did threaten to confound ; 

He gan to burne in rage, and friese in feare, 

Doubting sad end of principle unsound : 

Yet, sith he heard but one that did appeare, 

He did himselfe encourage and take better cheare. 

Nathelesse himselfe he armed all in hast. 

And forth he far'd with all his many bad, 

Ne stayed step, till that he came at last 

Unto the castle which they conquerd had : 

There with huge terrour, to be more ydrad, 

He stern ely marcht before the castle gate. 

And, with bold vaunts and ydle threatning, bad 

Deliver him his owne, ere yet too late. 

To wliicJi they had no right, nor any wrongefull state. 



632 THE TAEEIE QTTEENE. 

T}to prince staid not Lis aunswere to devize, 
But opening straight the sparre forth to him came, 
Full nobly mounted in right warlike wize ; 
And asked him, if that he were the same. 
Who all that wrong unto that wofull dame 
So long had done, and from her native land 
Exiled her, that all the world spake shame. 
He boldly aunswerd him, he there did stand 
That would his doings iustifie with his owne hani 

With that so furiously at him he flew. 

As if he would have over-run him streight ; 

And with his huge great yron axe gan hew 

So hideously uppon his armour bright. 

As he to peeces would have chopt it quight ; 

That the bold prince w^as forced foote to give 

To his first rage, and yeeld to his despight; 

The whitest at him so dreadfully he drive, 

That seem'd a marble rocke asunder could have rive. 

Tliereto a great advauntage eke he has 
Through his three double hands thrise multiplyde. 
Besides the double strength which in them was : 
[For stil, when fit occasion did betyde. 
He could his weapon shift from side to syde. 
From hand to hand ; and with such nimblesse sly 
Could wield about, that, ere it were espide. 
The wicked stroke did wound his enemy 
Behinde, beside, before, as he it list apply. 

Which uncouth use whenas the prince perceived. 
He gan to watch the wielding of his hand. 
Least by such slight he were unwares deceived ; 
And ever, ere he saw the stroke to land. 
He would it meete and warily withstand. 
One time when he his weapon faynd to shift. 
As he was wont, and chang'd from hand to hand. 
He met him with a counter-stroke so swift. 
That quite smit off his arme as he it up did lift. 

Therewith all fraught with fury and disdaine 
He brayd aloud for very fell despight ; 
And sodainely, t' avenge himselfe againe 
Gan into one assemble all the might 
Of all his hands, and heaved them on highfc. 
Thinking to pay him with that one for all : ^ 
But the sad Steele seizd not, where it was hight, 
Uppon the ciiilde, but somewhat short did ftill, 
And lighting on his horses head him quite did mall. 



THE PAEBIE QTTEENE. 633 

Down streiglit to ground fell his astonislit steod. 
And eke to th' earth his burden with him bare j 
But he himselfe full lightly from him freed. 
And gan himselfe to fight on foote prepare : 
Whereof whenas the gyant was aware. 
He wox right blyth, as he had got thereby, 
And laught so loud, that all his teeth wide bare 
One might have seene enraung d disorderly, 
Like to a rancke of piles that pitched are awry. 

Eftsoones againe his axe he raught on hie. 
Ere he were throughly buckled to his geare. 
And gan let drive at him so dreadfuUie, 
That had he chaunced not his shield to reare. 
Ere that huge stroke arrived on him neare. 
He had him surely cloven quite in twaine : 
33ut th' adamantine shield which he did beare 
So well was tempred, that for all his maine 
It would no passage yeeld unto his purpose vaine. 

Yet was the stroke so forcibly applide. 

That made him stagger with uncertaine sway. 

As if he would have tottered to one side : 

Wherewith full wroth he fiercely gan assay 

That curt'sie with like kindnesse to repay, 

And smote at him with so importune might, 

That two more of his armes did fall away, 

Like fruitlesse braunches, which the hatchets slight 

Hath pruned from the native tree and cropped quight. 

With that all mad and furious he grew. 
Like a fell mastilTe through enraging heat, 
And curst, and band, and blasphemies forth threw 
Against his gods, and fire to them did threat. 
And hell unto himselfe with horrour great: 
Thenceforth he car'd no more which way he strooke, 
Nor where it light; but gan to chaufe and sweat, 
And gnasht his teeth, and his head at him shooke, 
And sternely him beheld with grim and ghastly looke. 

iN'ought fear*d the childe his lookes, ne yet his threats ; 

]3ut onely wexed now the more aware 

To save himselfe from those his furious heats. 

And watch advauntage how to worke his care. 

The which good fortune to him offred faire z 

Eor as he in his ra^e him overstrooke. 

Ho, ere he could his weapon backe repaire. 

His side all bare and naked overtooke, 

And with his mortal steel quite through the body strooke. 



634 THE TAEEIE QUEENE. 

TliTOUgh all three bodies lie him strooke attonce. 
That all the three attonce fell on the plaine, 
Else should he thrise have needed for the nonce 
Them to have stricken, and thrise to have slaine. 
So now all three one sencelesse lunipe remaine, 
Enwallow'd in his owne blacke bloudy gore, 
And bjting lh' earth for very deaths disdaine; 
Who, with a cloud of night him covering, bore 
Downe to the house of dole, his daies there to deplore. 

Which when the lady from the castle saw. 

Where she wit j her two sonnes did looking stand. 

She towards him in hast herselfe did draw 

To greet him the good fortune of his hand : 

And all the people both of towne and land, 

Which there stood gazing from the citties wall 

Uppon these warriours, greedy t' understand 

To whether should the victory befall, 

Now when they saw it falne, they eke him greeted all. 

But "Beige with her sonnes prostrated low 

Before his feete, in all that peoples sight, 

Mongst ioyes mixing some tears, mongst wele some wo. 

Him thus bespake; " O most redoubted knight, 

The which hast me, of all most wretched wight. 

That earst was dea i, restor'd to life againe, 

And these weake impes replanted by thy might; 

What guerdon can I give thee for thy paine, 

But ev n that which thou savedst thine still to remaine !* 

He tooke her up forby the liUy hand, 

And her recomforted the best he might, 

Saying; " Deare lady, deedes ought not be scand 

By th' authors manhood, nor the doers might. 

But by their trueth and by the causes right: 

That same is it which fouglit for you this day. 

What other meed then need me to requight, 

But that which yeeldeth vertues meed alway ? 

That is, the vertue selfe, which her reward doth pay.** 

She humbly thankt him. for that wondrous grace. 

And further say; "Ah! sir, but mote ye please, 

Sith ye thus farfe have tendred ray poore case. 

As from my chiefest foe me to release. 

That your victorious arme will not yet cease. 

Till ye have rooted aU the relickes out 

Of that vilde race, and stablished my peace." 

** What is there else," sayd he, **left of their routP 

Declare it boldly, dame, and doe not stand in dout." 



THE TAERIE QXTEENE, 635 

" Then wote you, sir, that in this church hereby 

There stands an idoJe of great note and name. 

The which this gyant reared first on hie, 

And of his owne vaine fancies thought did frame: 

To whom, for endlesse horrour of his shame. 

He offred up for daily sacrifize 

My children and my people, burnt in flame 

With all the tortures that he could devize, 

The more t' aggrate his god with such his blouddy guize. 

** And underneath this idoll there doth lie 

An hideous monster, that doth it defend. 

And feedes on all the carkasses that die 

In sacrifize unto that cursed feend : 

Whose ugly shape none ever saw, nor kend. 

That ever scap'd : for of a man they say 

It has the voice, that speaches forth doth send, 

Even blasphemous words, which she doth bray 

Out of her poysnous entrails fraught with dire decay.** 

Which when the prince heard tell, his heart gan earne 

Por great desire that monster to assay; 

And prayd the place of her abode to learne: 

Which being shewed, he gan himselfe streightway 

Thereto addresse, and his bright shield display. 

So to the church he came, where it was told 

The monster underneath the altar lay; 

There he that idoll saw of massy gold 

Most richly made, but there no monster did behold 

Upon the image with his naked blade 
Three times, as in defiance, there he strooke; 
And, the third time, out of an hidden shade 
There forth issewd from under tli' altars smooke 
A dreadfull feend with fowle deformed looke, 
That stretcht itselfe as it had long ]yen still ; 
And her long taile and fethers strongly shooke. 
That all the temple did with terrour fill ; 
Yet him nought terrifide that feared nothing ill.] 

An huge great beast it was, when it in length 

Was stretched fortli that nigh fild all the place. 

And seem'd to be of infinite great strength; 

Horrible, hideous, and of hellish race, 

Eorne of the brooding of Echidna base, 

Or other like infernall furies kiode : 

For of a mayd she had the outward face. 

To hide the horrour which did lurke behinde, 

The better to beguile whom she so fond did finde* 



636 THE TAEEIE QUEENS. 

Thereto tlie body of a dog she had. 
Full of fell ravin and fierce greedinesse ; 
A lions clawes, with powre and rigour clad. 
To rend and teare whatso she can oppresse ; 
A dragons taile, whose sting without redresse 
Pull deadly wounds whereso it is empight ; 
And eagles wings, for scope and speedinesse. 
That nothing may escape her reaching might, 
Whereto she ever list to make her hardy Sight, 

Much like in foulnesse and deformity 

Unto that monster, whom the Theban knight. 

The father of that fatall progeny. 

Made kill herselfe for very hearts despight 

That he had red her riddle, which no wight 

Could ever loose, but sufTred deadly doole : 

So also did this monster u^e like slight 

To many a one which came unto her schoole, 

Whom she did put to death deceived like a foole. 

She comming forth, whenas she first beheld 

The armed prince with shield so blazing bright 

Her ready to assaile, was greatly queld, 

And much dismayd with that disniayfull sight, ^ 

That backe she would have turnd for great afiright : 

33ut he gan her with courage fierce assay, 

That forst her turne again e in her despight 

To save herselfe, least that he did her slay : 

And sure be had her slaine, had she not turnd her way* 

Tho, when she saw that she was forst to fight. 

She flew at him like to an hellish feend. 

And on his shield tooke hold with all her mighty 

As if that it she would in peeces rend. 

Or reeve out of the hand that did it hend : 

Strongly he strove out of her greedy gripe 

To loose his shield, and long while did contend ; 

But, when he could not quite it, with one stripe 

Her Hons clawes he from her feete away did wipe. 

With that aloude she gan to bray and yell. 

And fowle blasphemous speaches forth did cast. 

And bitter curses, horrible to tell ; 

That even the temple, wherein she was plast. 

Did quake to heare, and nigh asunder brast ; 

Tho with her huge long taile she at him strooke. 

That made him stagger and stand halfe aghast 

With trembling ioynts, as he for terrour shooke ; 

Who nought was terrifide, but greater courage tooke. 



THE FAEUIE QTTEENB, 637 

As when the mast of some well-timbred hulke 
Is with, the blast of some outra^ious storrae 
Blowne downe, it shakes the bottome of the bulke. 
And makes her ribs to cracke as they were tome ; 
Whilest still she stands as stonisht and forlorne ; 
So was he stound with stroke of her huge taile : 
But, ere that it she backe againe had borne. 
He with his sword it strooke, that without faile 
He ioynted it, and mard the swinging of her flaile. 

Then gan she cry much louder than afore. 

That all the people, there without, it heard. 

And Beige selfe was therewith stonied sore, 

As if the onely sound thereof she feard. 

But then the feend herselfe more fiercely rearJ 

Uppon her wide great wings, and strongly flew 

With all her body at his head and beard, 

That had he not foreseene with heedfull vew. 

And thrown his shield atween, she had him done to rewt 

But, as she prest on him with heavy sway. 

Under her wombe his fatall sword he thrust. 

And for her entrailes made an open way 

To issue forth; the which, once being brust. 

Like to a great mill-damb forth fiercely gusht. 

And powred out of her infernall sinke 

Most ugly filth ; and poyson therewith rusht. 

That him nigh choked with the deadly stinke : 

Such loathly matter were small lust to speake or thinke. 

Then downe to ground feU that deformed masse, 

Breathing out clouds of sulphure fowle and blacke. 

In which a puddle of contagion was, 

More loathd then Lerna, or then Stygian lake. 

That any man would nigh awhaped make : 

Whom when he saw on ground, he was full glad. 

And streight went ferth his gladnesse to partake 

With Belg^, who watcht all this while fuU sad. 

Way ting what end would be of that same daunger drad. 

Whom when she saw so ioyously come forth, 
She gan reioyce and shew triumphant chere. 
Lauding and praysing his renowmed worth 
By all the names that honorable were. 
Then in he brought her, and her shewed there 
The present of his paines, that monsters spoyle. 
And eke that idoll deem'd so costly dere ; 
Whom he did all to peeces breake, and foyle 
In filthy durtj and left so in the loathely soyle. 
28 



638 THE FAESIE QUEENB. 

Then all the people which beheld that day 
Gran shout aloud, that unto heaven it rong; 
And all the damzels of that towne in ray 
Came dauncing forth, and ioyous carrols song : 
So him they led through all their streetes along 
Crovi'ned with girlonds of immortall bales ; 
And all the vulgar did about them throng 
To see the man, whose everlasting praise 
They all were bound to all posterities to raise. 

There he with Beige did awhile remaine 

Making great feast and ioyous merriment, 

Untill he had her settled in her raine 

With safe assuraunce and establishment. 

Then to his first emprize his mind he lent. 

Full loath to Beige and to all the rest ; 

Of whom yet taking leave thenceforth he went, 

AnU to his former iourney him addrest ; 

On which long way he rode, ne ever day did rest. 

But turne we now to noble ArtegaU ; 

Who, having left Mercilla, streightway went 

On his first quest, the which him forth did call. 

To weet, to worke Irenaes franchisement. 

And eke Grantortoes worthy punishment. 

So forth he fared, as his manner was. 

With onely Talus way ting diligent. 

Through many perils ; and much way did pas, 

Till nigh unto the place at length approcht he lias. 

There as he Iraveld by the way, he met 

An aged wight wayfarmg aU alone, 

Who through his yeares long since aside had set 

The use of armes, and batteU quite forgone*. 

To whom as he approcht, he knew anone 

That it was he which whilome did attend 

On faire Irene in her affliction, 

When first to faery court he saw her wend, 

Unto his soveraine queene her suite for to commend* 

Whom by his name saluting, thus he gan ; 
** Haile, good Sir Sergis, truest knight ahve. 
Well tride in all thy ladies troubles than 
When her that tyrant did of crowne deprive; 
What new occasion doth thee hither drive, 
Whiles she alone is left, and thou here foimdP 
Or is she thrall, or doth she not survive ?'* 
To whom he thus ; " She hveth sure and sound ; 
But by that tjrrant is in wretched thraldome bounds 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 63& 

" For she presuming on tK' appointed tyde. 

In which ye promist, as ye were a knight. 

To meete her at the salvage lands syde. 

And then and there for triall of her right 

With her unrighteous enemy to fight, 

Did thither come ; where she, afrayd of nought. 

By guilefull treason and by subtill slight 

Surprized was, and to Grantorto brought, 

Who her imprison'd hath, and her life often sought, 

" And now he hath to her prefixt a day, 

By which if that no champion doe appeare, 

Which will her cause in battailous array 

Against him iustifie, and prove her cleare 

Of all those crimes that he gainst her doth reare^ 

She death shall sure aby." Those tidings sad 

Did much abash Sir Artegall to heare. 

And gneved sore, that through his fault she had 

Pallen into that tyrants hand and usage bad. 

Then thus replide : " iN'ow sure and by my life. 
Too much am I to blame for that faire maide, ^ 
That have her drawne to all this troublous strife. 
Through promise to afford her timely aide, 
Which by default I have not yet defraide : 
But witnesse unto me, ye heavens ! that know 
How cleare I am from blame of this upbraide : 
For 5^e into like thraldome me did throw. 
And kept from compHshing the faith which I did owe. 

" But now aread. Sir Sergis, how long space 

Hath he her lent a champion to provide." 

** Ten daies," quoth he, " he graunted hath of grace. 

For that he weeneth weU before that tide 

None can have tidings to assist her side : 

For aU the shores, which to the sea accoste. 

He day and night doth ward both farre and wide. 

That none can there arrive without an hoste : 

So her he deemes already but a damned ghoste.'* 

" 'Now tume againe," sir Artegall then sayd ; 
" For, if I live till those ten dales have end. 
Assure yourselfe, sir knight, she shall have aydt 
Though I this dearest life for her doe spend." 
So backeward he attone with him did wend. 
Tho, as they rode together on their way, 
A rout of people they before them kend, 
Flocking together in confusde array ; 
As if that there were some tumultuous afiray. 



640 THE FAESIE QUEENE. 

To wliicli as ihey approcLt the cause to know. 

They saw a knia^ht in daungerous distresse 

Of a rude rout him chasing to and fro. 

That sought with lawlesse powre him to oppresse. 

And bring in bondage of their brutishnesse : 

And farre away, amid their rakehell bands. 

They spide a lady left all succourlesse, 

Crying, and holdiDg up her wretched hands 

To him for aide, who long in vaine their rage withstands. 

Yet still he strives, ne any perill spares. 
To reskue her from their rude violence ! 
And like a lion wood amongst them fares, 
Dealing his dreadfull blowes with large dispence, 
Gainst which the pallid death findes no defence : 
But all in vaine : their numbers are so great. 
That naught may boot to banishe them from thence ; 
!For, soone as he their outrage backe doth beat, 
They turne afresh, and oft renew their former threat. 

And now they doe so sharpely him assay. 

That they his shield in peeces battred have. 

And forced him to throw it quite away, 

Pro dangers dread his doubtfull life to save; 

Albe that it most safety to him gave, 

And much did magnifie his noble name : 

For, from the day that he thus did it leave, 

Amongst all knights he blotted was with blame, 

And counted but a recreant knight with endles shame. 

Whom when they thus distressed did behold. 

They drew unto his aide ; but that rude rout 

Them also gan assaile with outrage bold. 

And forced them, however strong and stout 

They were, as well approv'd in many a doubt, 

Backe to recule ; untill that yron man 

With his huge flaile began to lay about ; 

From whose sterne presence they diffused ran, 

Like scattred chaffe, the which the wind away doth fan. 

So when that knight from perill cleare was freed. 

He drawing neare began to greete them faire. 

And yeeld great thankes for their so goodly deed. 

In saving him from daungerous despaire 

Of those which sought his life for to empaire : 

Of whom Sir Artegall gan then enquere 

The whole occasion of his late misfare. 

And who he was, and what those villaines were. 

The which with mortaU malice him pursu'd so nera 



THE FAEEIE QITEENE. 641 

To wliom he thus ; " My name is Eurbon hight» 
Well knowne, and far renowmed heretofore, 
Untill late miscbiefe did uppon me light, 
That all my former praise hath blemisht sore : 
And that faire lady, which in that uprore 
Ye with those caytives saw, Flourdeli** hight. 
Is mine owne love, though me she haA-e forlore; 
Whether withheld from me by wrongfull might. 
Or with her owne good will, I cannot read aright. 

** But sure to me her faith she first did plight 

To be my love, and take me for her lord ; 

Till that a tyrant, which Grandtorto hight, 

With golden giftes and many a guilefull word 

Entyced her to him for to accord. 

O, who may not with gifts and words be tempted I 

Sith which she hath me ever since abhord. 

And to my foe hath guilefully consented : 

Ay me, that ever guyle in wemen was invented. 

" And now he hath this troupe of villains sent 
By open force to fetch her quite away : 
Gainst whom myselfe I long in vaine have bent 
To rescue her, and daily meanes assay ; 
Yet rescue her thence by no meanes I may ; 
For they doe me with multitude oppresse, 
And with unequal! might doe overlay. 
That oft I driven am to great distresse, 
And forced to forgoe th' attempt remedilesse." 

** But why have ye," said Artegall, " forborne 

Your owne good shield in daungerous dismay? 

That is the greatest shame and foulest scorne. 

Which unto any knight behappen may, 

To loose the badge that should his deedes display.** 

To whom sir Burbon, blushing halfe for shame ; 

** That shall I unto you," quoth he, " bewray; 

Least ye therefore mote happily me blame, 

And deeme it doen of will, that through inforcement camew 

" True is that I at first was dubbed knight 
By a good knight, the knight of the E-ed-crosse; 
"Who, when he gave me armes in field to fight. 
Gave me a shield, in which he did endosse 
His deare Bedeemers badge upon the bosse : 
The same long while I bore, and therewithal! 
Fought many battels without wound or losse; 
Therewith Grandtorto selfe I did appall, 
And made him oftentimes in field before me falL 



642 THE FAEEIE QUEENS. 

"But for tliat many did that shield envie. 

And cruell enemies increased more ; 

To stint all strife and troublous enmitie. 

That bloudie scutchin being battred sore 

I layd aside, and have of late forbore ; 

Hoping thereby to have my love obtayned : 

Yet can I not my love have nathemore ; 

For she by force is still fro me detayned, 

And with corruptfull brybes is to untruth mistrayned. 

To vrhom thus Artegall ; " Certes, sir knight, 

Hard is the case the which ye doe complaine ; 

Yet not so hard (for nought so hard may h^ht 

That it to such a streight mote you constrame) 

As to abandon that which doth containe 

Your honours stile, that is, your warlike shield. 

All perill ought be lesse, and lesse all paine 

Then losse of fame in disaventrous field : 

Pye, rather then doe ought that mote dishonour yield !*' 

" Not so,*' quoth he ; " for yet, when time doth serve. 
My former shield I may resume againe : 
To temporize is not from truth to swerve, 
Ne for advantage terme to entertaine, 
Whenas necessitie doth it constraine." 
** Fie on such forgerie," said Artegall, ^ 
'* Under one hood to shadow faces twaine: 
Knights ought be true, and truth is one in all ; 
Of all things, to dissemble, fouly may befall !" 

" Yet let me you of courtesie request," 

Said Burbon, "to assist me now at need 

Against these pesants which have me opprest. 

And forced me to so infamous deed. 

That yet my love may from their hands be freed.** 

Sir Artegall, albe he earst did wyte 

His wavering mind, yet to his aide agreed, 

And buckling him eftsoones unto the fight 

Did set upon those troupes with all his powre and might. 

Who flocking roiind about them, as a swarme 

Of flyes upon a birchen bough doth cluster. 

Hid them assault with terrible allarme. 

And over all the fields themselves did muster, 

"With bils and glaj^ves making a dreadfull luster; 

That forst at first those knights backe to retyre ; 

As when the wrathfull Boreas doth bluster, 

Nought may abide the tempest of his yre, 

Both man and beast doe fly, and succour doe inquyre. 



THE FAEfilE QTTEENB. 643 

But, wlienas overblowen was that brunt, 

Those knights began afresh them to assayle. 

And all about the fields like squirrels hunt ; 

But chieflj^ Talus with his yron flayle. 

Gainst which no flight nor rescue mote avayle. 

Made cruell havocke of the baser crew, 

And chaced them both over hill and dale : 

The raskall manie soone they overthrew ; 

But the two knights themselves their captains do sub dew. 

At last they came whereas that ladie bode. 
Whom now her keepers had forsaken quight 
To save themselves, and scattered were abrode : 
Her halfe dismayd they found in doubtfull plight 
As neither glad nor sorie for their sight ; 
Yet wondrous faire she was, and richly clad 
In roiall robes, and many iewels dight ; 
But that those villens through their usage bad 
Them fouly rent, ^d shamefully defaced, had. 

But Burbon, streight dismounting from his steed. 
Unto her ran with greedie great desyre. 
And catching her fast by her ragged^ weed 
Would have embraced her with hart entyre ; 
But she, backstarting, with disdainefull yre 
Bad him avaunt, ne would unto his lore 
Allured be for prayer nor for meed : 
Whom when those knights so froward and forlora 
Beheld, they her rebuked and upbrayded sore. 

Sayd Artegall ; *'* What foule disgrace is this 

To so faire ladie, as ye seeme in sight, ^ 

To blot your beautie, that unblemisht is. 

With so foule blame as breach of faith once plight, 

Or change of love for any worlds delight ? 

Is ought on earth so pretious or deare 

As prayse and honour? or is ought so bright 

And beautifull as glories beames appeare, [cleare? 

Whose goodly light then Phoebus lampe doth shiue more 

** Why then will ye, fond dame, attempted bee 

Unto a strangers love, so lightly placed, 

For guiftes of gold or any worldly glee. 

To leave the love that ye before embraced. 

And let your fame with falshood be defaced? 

Yie on the pelfe for which good name is sold. 

And honour with indignitie debased ! 

Dearer is love then life, and fame then gold ; 

But dearer then them both your faith once plighted hold.** 



644 THt! FAEEiE QTTEENB. 

Mucli was the la die in lier gentle mind 
Abaslit at liis rebuke, that bit her neare; 
!Ne ought to answere thereunto did find : 
But, hanging down her head with heavie cheare. 
Stood long amaz'd as she amated weare : 
"Which Eurbon seeing, her againe assayd ; 
And, clasping twixt ms armes, her up did reare 
Upon his steede, whiles she no whit gainesayd : 
So bore her quite away nor well nor ill apayd. 

iNathlesse the yron man did still pursew 

That raskall many with unpittied spoyle ; 

!Ne ceassed not, till all their scattred crew 

Into the sea he drove quite from that soyle, 

'The which they troubled had with great turmoyle : 

But Artegall, seeing his cruell deed, 

Commaunded him from slaughter to recoyle. 

And to his Toyage gan againe proceed ; 

For that the terme, approching fast, required speed. 



CAiTTO xn. 

Artegall doth Sir Burbon aide. 
And blames for changing shield ; 

He with the great Grant orto fighta^ 
And slaieth him in field. 

O SACKED hunger of ambitious mindes. 
And impotent desire of men to raine ! ^ 
Whom neither dread of God, that devils bindes, 
Kor lawes of men, that common -weales containe, 
iNor bands of nature, that wilde beastes restraiue. 
Can keepe from outrage and from doing wrong. 
Where they may hope a kingdome to obtaine : 
"No faith so firme, no trust can be so strong, 
jDnTo love so lasting then, that may enduren long. 

Witnesse may Burbon be ; whom all the bands. 

Which may a knight assure, had surely bound, 

TJntill the love of lordship and of lands 

Made him become most laitbless and unsound: 

And witnesse be Gerioneo found, 

Who for like cause faire Beige did oppresse. 

And right and wrong most cruelly confound : 

And so be now Grantorto, who no lesse ^ 

Than all the rest burst out to all outragiousnesse. 



THE FAEEIB QTTEENB. 645 

Gainst whom Sir Artegall long having since 
Taken in hand th* exploit, (being tlieretoo 
Appointed by that mightie faerie prince. 
Great Gloriane, that tyrant to fordoo,) 
Through other great adventures hethertoo 
Had it forslackt : but now time drawing ny, 
To him assynd her high beheast to doo, 
To the sea-shore he gan his way apply 
To weete if shipping readie he mote there descry, 

Tho, when they came to the sea-coast, they found 

A ship all readie, as good fortune fell. 

To put to sea, with whom they did compound 

To passe them over vhere them list to tell : 

The winde and weather served them so well. 

That in one day they with the coast did fall ; 

Whereas they readie found, them to repell. 

Great hostes of men in order martiall. 

Which them forbad to land, and footing did forstall. 

But nathemore would they from land refraine : 

But, whenas nigh unto the shore they drew 

That foot of man might sound the bottome plaine. 

Talus into the sea did forth issew 

Though darts from shore and stones they at him threw ; 

And wadiag through the waves with stedfast sway, 

Maugre the might of all those troupes in vew. 

Did win the shore ; whence he them chast away 

And made to fly like doves, whom th' eagle doth affray. 

The whyles Sir Artegall with that old knight 

Did forth descend, there being none them neare. 

And forward marched to a towne in sight. 

By this came tydings to the tyrants eare. 

By those which earst did fly away for feare. 

Of their arrivall: wherewith troubled sore 

He all his forces str eight to him did reare, 

And, forth issuing with his scouts afore. 

Meant them to have incountred ere they left the shore : 

But ere he marched farre he with them met. 

And fiercely charged them with all his force 

But Talus sternely did upon them set. 

And brusht and battred them without remorse, 

That on the ground he left full many a corse; 

Ne any able was him to withstand, 

But he them overtlirew both man and horse. 

That they lay scattred over all the land, 

As thicke as doth the seedo after the sowers hand. 



646 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Till Artegall him seeing so to rage 
Willd him to stay, and signe of truce did malce: 
To which all harkning did awhile asswage 
Their forces furie, and their terror slake ; 
Till he an herauld cald, and to him spake, 
WilHng him wend unto the tyrant streight. 
And tell him that not for such slaughters sake 
He thether came, but for to trie the right 
Of fayre Irenaes cause with him in single fight : 

And willed him for to reclayme with speed 
His scattred people, ere they all were slaine; 
And time and place convenient to areed. 
In which they two the combat might darraine. 
Which message when Grantorto heard,* full fayno 
And glad he was the slaughter so to stay ; 
And pointed for the combat twixt them twayne 
The morrow next, ne gave him longer day : 
So sounded the retraite, and drew his folke away. 

That night Sir Artegall did cause his tent 

There to be pitched on the open plaine : 

For he had given streight commaundement 

That none should dare him once to entertaine : 

Which none durst breake, though many would right faine 

For faire Irena whom they loved deare : 

But yet old Sergis did so well him paine, 

That from close friends, that dar'd not to appeare. 

He all things did purvay which for them needfull weare. 

The morrow next that was the dismall day 

Appointed for Irenas death before. 

So soone as it did to the world display 

His chearefull face, and light to men restore. 

The heavy mayd, to whom none tydings bore 

Of Artegals arrivall her to free, 

Lookt up with eyes full sad and hart full sore, 

Weening her lifes last howre then neare to bee ; 

Sith no redemption nigh she did nor heare nor see^ 

Then up she rose, and on herselfe did dight 

Most squalid garments, fit for such a day ; 

And with dull countenance and with doleful spright 

She forth was brought in sorrowfull dismay 

For to receive the doome of her decay : 

But comming to the place, and finding there 

Sir Artegall in battailous array 

Wayting his foe, it did her dead hart cheare, 

And new life to her lent in midst of deadly feare. 



THE FAERIE QTTEEITE. 647 

Xiike aa a tender rose in open plaine, 

That withL untimely drought nigh withered wag. 

And hung the head, soone as few drops of rain© 

Thereon distill and deaw her daintie face. 

Gins to look up, and with fresh wonted grace 

Dispreds the glorie of her leaves gay ; 

Such was Irenas countenance, such her case. 

When Artegall she saw in that array. 

There wayting for the tyrant till it was farre day; 

Who came at length with, proud presumpteoxis gate 

Into the field, as if he fearelesse were. 

All armed in a cote of yron plate 

Of great defence to ward the deadly feare. 

And on his head a steele-cap he did weare 

Of colour rustie-browne, but sure and strong; 

And.in his hand an huge polaxe did'beare, 

Whose steale was yron-studded, but not long. 

With which lie wont to fight, to justifie his wrong. 

Of stature huge and hideous he was. 

Like to a giant for his monstrous hight, 

And did in strength most sorts of men surpas, 

JNTe ever any found his match in might ; 

Thereto he had great skill in single fight : 

His face was ugly and his countenance sterne. 

That could have frayd one with the very sight, 

And gaped like a gulfe when he did gerne ; 

That wnether man or monster one could scarse discerno^ 

Soone as he did within the listes appeare. 
With dreadfall looke he Artegall beheld, 
As if he would have daunted him.with feare; 
And, grinning griesly, did against him weld 
His deadly weapon which in hand he held : 
But th' elfin swayne, that oft had seene like sight, 
Was with his ghastly count'nance nothing queld; 
But gan him str eight to buckle to the fight. 
And cast his shield about to be in readie pligKt. 

The trompets sound ; and they together goe 

With dreadfull terror and with fell intent ; 

And their huge strokes full daungerously bestow. 

To doe most dammage whereas most they ment : 

But with such force and furie violent 

The tyrant thundred his thicke blovves so fast, 

That through the yron walles their way they rent, 

And even to the vitall parts they past, 

Ne ought could tlienx endure, but aU they cleft or brosb 



6^ THE FAEETE QTTEENB, 

Which cruell outrage whenas Artegall 
Did well arise, thenceforth with warie heed 
He shund his strokes, where-ever they did fall, 
And way did give unto their gracelesse speed: 
As when a skilfull marriner doth reed 
A storme approching that doth perill threat. 
He will not bide the daunger of such dread. 
But strikes his sayles, and vereth his main-sheat, 
And lends unto it leave the emptie ayre to beat. 

So did the faerie knight himselfe abeare, 

And stouped oft his head from shame to shield : 

No shame to stoupe, one head more high to reare 

And, much to gaine, a iitle for to yield : 

So stoutest knights doen oftentimes in field. 

But still the tyrant sternely at him layd. 

And did his yron axe so nimbly wield, 

That many wounds into his flesh it made, 

And with his burdenous blowes him sore did overlada. 

Yet whenas fit advantage he did spy, 

The whiles the cursed felon high did reare 

His cruell hand to smite him mortally. 

Under his stroke he to him stepping neare 

IRight in the flanke him strooke with deadly drearCj 

That the gore-bloud thence gushing grievously 

Did underneath him like a pond appeare 

And all his armour did with purple dye : 

Thereat he brayed loud, and yelled dreadfully. 

Yet the huge stroke, which he before inteaded. 

Kept on his course, as he did it direct. 

And with such monstrous poise adowne descended. 

That seemed nought could liim from death protect : 

But he it well did ward with wise respect, 

And twixt him and the blow his shield did cast. 

Which thereon seizing tooke no great effect ; 

But, byting deepe, therein did sticke so fast 

That by no meanes it backe again he forth could wrast. 

Long while he tug*d and strove to get it out. 
And all his powre applyed thereunto, 
That he therewith the knight drew all about : 
Nathlesse, for all that ever he could doe. 
His axe he could not from his shield undoe. 
Which Artegall perceiving, strooke no more. 
But loosing soone his shield did it forgoe ; 
And, whiles he combred was therewith so sore. 
He gan at him let drive more fiercely than afore. 



THE FAEBIS QTTEENS. 649 

So well he him pursew'd, that at the last 
He stroke him with Chrysaor on the hed. 
That with the souse thereof full sore aghast 
He staggered to and fro in doubtfull sted : 
Againe, whiles he him saw so ill bested, 
He did him smite with all his migiit and maine, 
Tliat, falling, on his mother earth he fed: 
Whom when he saw prostrated on the plaine, 
He lightly reft his head to ease him of his paine. 

Which when the people round about him saw, 

They shouted all for ioy of his successe, 

Glad to be quit from that proud tyrant's awe. 

Which with strong powrc did them long time oppressoj 

And, running all with greedie ioyfulnesse 

To faire Irena, at her feet di'd fall, 

And her adored with due humblenesse 

As their true liege and princesse naturall ; 

And eke her champions glorie sounded over all : 

Who, streight her leading with meete maiestie 

Unto the pallace where their kings did rayne. 

Did her therein estabhsh peaceablie. 

And to her kingdomes seat restore agayne ; 

And all such persons, as did late maintayne 

That tjrrants part with close or open ayde, 

He sorely punished with heavie payne ; 

That in short space, whiles there with ber he stayd, 

Not one was left that durst her once have disobayd. 

During which time that he did there remayne, 
His studie was true iustice how to deale, ^ 
And day and night employ 'd his busie paine 
How to reforme that ragged common-weale : 
And that same yron man, which could reveale 
All hidden crimes, through all that realme he sent 
To search out those that usd to rob and steale. 
Or did rebell gainst lawful 1 government ; 
On whom he did inflict most grievous punishment. 

But, ere he could reforme it thorouglily. 

He through occasion called was away 

To faerie court, that of necessity 

His course of iustice he was forst to stay. 

And Talus to revoke from the right way, 

In which he was that realme for to redresse : 

But envies cloud still dimmeth vertues ray! 

So, having freed Irena from distresse. 

He tooke his leave of her there left in heavinesso. 



650 THE FAEEIE QTTEENB, 

Tlio, as lie backe returned from that land, 

And there arriv'd againe whence forth he set. 

He had not passed farre upon the strand, 

Whenas two old ill-favour' d hags he met,' 

33y the way-side being together set, 

Two griesly creatures ; and, to that their faces 

3Io3t foule and filthie v^ere, their garments yet. 

Being all rag'd and tatter'd, their disgraces 

Did much the more augment, and made most ugly cases. 

The one of them, that elder did appeare, 

With her dull eyes did seeme to looke askew. 

That her mis-shape much helpt ; and her foule heare 

Hung loose and loathsomely; thereto her hew 

Was wan and leane, tliat all her teeth arew 

And all her bones might through her cheekes be rea , 

Her lips were, like raw lether, pale and blew: 

And as she spake, therewith she slavered ; 

Yet spake she seldom ; but thought more, the lesse she sed: 

Her hands were foule and durtie, never washt 

In all her life, with long nayles over-raught 

Like puttocks clawes ; with th' one of which she scratclit 

Her cursed head, although it itched naught ; 

The other held a shake with venime fraught, 

On which she fed and gnawed hungrily. 

As if that long she had not eaten ought ; 

That round about her iawes one might descry 

The bloudie gore and poyson dropping lothsomely. 

Her name was Envie, knowen well thereby ; 
Whose nature is to grieve and grudge at all 
That ever she sees doen prays- worthily; 
Whose sight to her is greatest crosse may fall 
And vexeth so, that makes her eat her gall: 
Por, when she wanteth other thing to eat. 
She feedes on her owne maw unnaturall, 
And of her owne foule entrayles makes, her meat ; 
Meat fit for such a monsters monsterous dyeat : 

And if she hapt of any good to heare. 

That had to any happily betid. 

Then would she inly fret, and grieve, and tear© 

Her flesh for felnesse, which she inward hid; 

But if she heard of ill that any did. 

Or harme that any had, then would she mako 

Great cheare, like one unto a banquet bid ; 

And in anothers losse great pleasure take, 

As Bhe had got thereby and gayned a great stake. 



THE FAERIE QtTEENE. 651 

The other nothing better was then shee; 

Agreehig in bad will and cancred kynd. 

But in bad maner they did disagree : 

Por whatso envie good or bad did fynd 

She did conceale, and murder her owne mynd; 

But this, whatever evill she conceived, 

Did spred abroad and throw in th' open wynd: 

Yet this in all her words might be perceived, 

That all she sought was mens good name to have bereaved. 

For, whatsoever good by any sayd 

Or doen she heard, she would streightwayes invent 

How to deprave or slaunderously upbrayd, 

Or to misconstrue of a mans intent, 

And turne to ill the thing that well was ment : 

Therefore she used offcen to resorb 

To common haunts, and companies frequent, 

To hearke what any one did good report, 

To blot the same with blame, or wrest in wicked sort : 

And if that any ill she heard of any, 

She would it eeke, and make niuch worse by telling, 

And take great ioy to publish it to many, ^ 

That every matter worse was for her melling : 

Her name was hight Detraction, and her dwelling 

Was neare to Envie, even her neighbour next ; 

A wicked hag, and Envy selfe excelling 

In mischiefe ; for herselfe she only vext : 

But this same both herselfe and others eke perplext. 

Her face was ugly, and her mouth distort, 

Foming with poyson round about her gils, 

In which her cursed tongue full sharpe and short 

Appear'd like aspis sting, that closely kils. 

Or cruelly does wound whomso she wils ; 

A distaffe in her other hand she had. 

Upon the which she litle spinnes, but spils ; 

And faynes to weave false tales and leasings bad, 

To throw amongst the good, which others had disprad. 

These two now had themselves combynd in one. 

And linckt together gainst Sir Artegall ; 

For whom they wayted as his mortall fone. 

How they might make him into miscliiefe fall. 

For freeing from their snares Irena thrall : 

Besides, unto themselves they gotten had 

A monster which the blatant beast men call, 

A dreadfull feend of gods and men ydrad, 

Wliom tkey by slights ailur'd and to their purpose lad. 



652 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Sucli were these liags, and so unliandsome drest 5 

Who when they nigh approching had espyde 

Sir Artegall return' d from his late quest. 

They both arose, and at him loudly eryde. 

As it had bene two shepheards curres had scryde 

A ravenous wolfe amongst the scattered fiockes : 

And Envie first, as she that first him eyed, 

Towardes him runs, and with rude flaring lockes 

About her eares does beat her brest and forehead knockes. 

Then from her mouth the gobbet she does take. 

The which whyleare she was so greedily 

Devouring, even that halfe-gnawen snake. 

And at him throws it most despightfully : 

The cursed serpent, though she hungrily 

Earst chawed thereon, yet was not all so dead. 

But that some life remayned secretly; 

And, as he past afore withouten dread, 

Bit him behind, that long the marke was to be read. 

Then th* other comming neare gan him revile. 

And fouly rayle, with all she could invent ; 

Saying that he had, with unmanly guile 

And foule abusion, both his honour blent, 

And that bright sword, the sword of Justice lent. 

Had stayned with reprochfuU crueltie 

lu guiltiesse blood of many an innocent: 

As for Grantorto, him with treacherie 

And traynes having surpriz'd he fouly did to die. 

Thereto the blatant beast, by them set on, 
At him began aloud to barke and bay 
With bitter rage and fell contention. 
That all the woods and rockes nigh to that waj 
Began to quake and tremble with dismay; 
And all tlie aire rebellowed againe ; 
So dreadfully his hundred tongues did bray: 
* And evermore those hags themselves did paine ^ 
To sharpen him, and their owne cursed tongs did straine. 

And, still among, most bitter wordes they spake, 

Most shamefull, most unrighteous, most untrew. 

That they the mildest man alive would make 

Forget his patience, and yeeld vengeaunce dew 

To her, that so false sclaunders at him threw; 

And more to make them pierce and wound more deepe, 

Siic, with the sting which in her vile tongue grew 

Did sharpen them, and in fresh poyson steepe ; 

Yet he past on, and seem'd of them to take no keepe. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 653 

"But Talus, hearing her so lewdly raile 

And speake so ill of him that well deserved. 

Would her have chastiz'd with his yron flaile. 

If her Sir Arte^all had not preserved. 

And him forbidden, who his heast observed: 

So much the more at him still did she scold, 

And stones did cast ; yet he for nought would swerve 

From his right course, but still the way did hold 

To Faerie court i wli^3?o what him fell shall else b,e told. 



THE SIXTH BOOKE 

OP 

THE FAEEIE QIJEENE, 

CONTATNING 

®^e ICegcntr of Sir €CaIiXror^, ox of CHottrttsfe* 



THE waies, tlirougli wMcli my weary steps I guyde 
In this deliglitfal land of Paery, 
Are so excf'eding ^spacious and wyde, 
And sprinckled with. such, sweet variety 
Of all that pleasant is to eare or eye. 
That I, nigh ravisht with rare thoughts delight, 
My tedious travell doe forget thereby ; 
And, when I gin to feele decay of might, 
It strength to me supplies and chears my dulled spright. 

Such secret comfort and such heavenlie pleasures. 

Ye sacred imps, that on Parnasso dwell. 

And there the keeping have of learnings threasures 

.Which doe all worldly riches farre excell, 

Into the mindes of mortall men doe well. 

And goodly fury into them infuse ; 

Guyde ye my footing, and conduct me well 

In these strange waies where never foote did use, 

l^e none can find but who was taught them by the muse : 

Hevele to me the sacred noursery 

Of vertue, which with you doth there remaine. 

Where it in silver bowre does hidden ly 

From view of men and wicked worlds disdaine ; 

Since it at first was by the gods with paine 

Planted in earth, being deriv'd at furst ^ 

From heavenly seedes of bounty soveraine. 

And by them long with careful! labour nurst, 

Till it to ripenesse grew, and forth to honour burst. 

Amongst them all growes not a fairer flowre 

Then is the bloosme of comely courtesie ; 

Which though it on a lowly stalke doe bowre. 

Yet brancheth forth in brave nobilitie. 

And spreds itselfe through all civilitie : 

Of which though present age doe plenteous seeme. 

Yet, being matcbt with plainc antiquitie, 

Ye will them all but fayned showes esteeme, 

Which carry colours faire that feeble eies misdeeme. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 655 

But, in the triall of true curtesie. 

Its now so farre from that which then it wa 

That it indeed is nought but forgerie, 

Fashioned to please the eies of them that pas. 

Which see not perfect things but in a glas : 

Yet is that glasse so gay that it can blynd 

The wisest sight, to thinke gold that is bras : 

But vertues seat is deepe within the mynd. 

And not in outward shows but inward thoughts defynd. 

But where shall I in all antiquity 

So faire a patterne finde, where may be scene 

The goodly praise of princely curtesie, 

As in yourselfe, O soveraine lady queene ? 

In whose pure minde, as in a mirrour sheene. 

It showes, and with her brightnesse doth inflamo 

The eyes of all which thereon fixed beene ; 

But meriteth indeede an higher name : 

Yet so from low to high, uplifted is your name. 

Then pardon me, most dreaded soveraine. 
That from yourselfe I doe this vertue bring, 
And to yourselfe doe it returne againe : 
So from the ocean all rivers spring. 
And tribute backe repay as to their king : 
Hight so from you all goodly vertues well 
Into the rest which round about you ring, 
Faire lords and ladies which about you dwell. 
And doe adorne your court where courtesies excell. 



CANTO L 

Calidore saves from Maleffort 

A damzell used vylde : 
Doth vanquish Cruder; and doth xnalot 

Brian a wexe more mylde. 

Op court, it seemes, men courtesie doe call. 
For that it there most useth to abound ; 
And well beseemeth that in princes hall 
That vertue should be plentifully found, 
Which of all goodly manners is the ground. 
And roote of civill conversation : 
Kight so in faery court it did redound, 
"Where curteous knights and ladies most did wx)n 
Of all on earth, and made a matchlesse paragon. 



656 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

But mongst tliem all was none more courteous knight 

Then Calidore, beloved over all : 

In whom it seemes that gentlenesse of spright 

And manners mylde were planted naturall ; 

To which he adding comely guize withall 

And gracious speach, did steale mens hearts away : 

IsTathlesse thereto he was full stout and tall, 

And well approv'd in batteilous affray, 

That him did much renowme, and far his fame display, 

"Ne was there knight ne was there lady found 
In faerie court, but him did deare embrace 
For his faire usage and conditions sound. 
The which in all mens liking gayned place, 
And with the greatest purchast greatest grace ; 
Which he could wisely use, and well apply, 
To please the best, and th* evill to embase : 
Por he loathd leasing and base flattery. 
And loved simple truth and stedfast honesty. 

And now he was in travell on his way, 

Uppon an hard adventure sore bestad, 

Whenas by chaunce he met uppon a day 

With Artegall, returning yet halfe sad 

From his late conquest which he gotten had : 

Who whenas each of other had a sight, 

They knew themselves, and both their persons rad : 

When Calidore thus first ; " haile, noblest knight 

Of all this day on ground that breathen living spright ! 

" Now tell, if please you, of the good successe 

Which ye have had in your late enterprize.'* 

To whom Sir Artegall gan to express e 

His whole exploite and valorous emprize. 

In order as it did to him arize. 

" Now, happy man," said then Sir Calidore, 

'* Which have, so goodly as ye can devize, > 

Atchiev'd so hard a quest, as few before ; 

That shall you most renowmed make for evermore. 

" But where ye ended have, now I begin 

To tread an endlesse trace ; withouten guyde 

Or good direction how to enter in. 

Or how to issue forth in waies untryde. 

In penis strange, in labours long and wide ; 

In which although good fortune me befall. 

Yet shall it not by none be testifyde." 

'* What is that quest," quoth then Sir Artegall, 

"That you into such perils presently doth callP" 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 667 

"The blattant beast," quotli lie, "I doe pursew. 

And through the world incessantly doe chase, 

Till I him overtake, or else subdew : 

Yet know I not or how or in what place 

To find him out, yet still I forward trace." 

" What is that blattant beast then?" he replide. 

*' It is a monster bred of hellishe race,'* 

Then answered he, " which often hath annoyd 

Good knights and ladies true, and many else destroyd. 

*' Of Cerberus whilome he was begot 

And fell Chimsera, in her darkesome den, 

Through fowle commixture of his filthy blot ; 

Where he was fostred long in Stygian fen, 

Till he to perfect ripenesse grew ; and then 

Into this wicked world he forth was sent 

To be the plague and scourge of wretched men : 

Whom with vile tongue and venemous intent 

He sore doth wound, and bite, and cruelly torment. 

" Then, since the Salvage Island I did leave,'* 

Sayd Artegall, ' I such a beast did see. 

The which did seeme a thousand tongues to have^ 

That all in spight and malice did agree, 

With which he bayd and loudly barkt at mee. 

As if that he attonce would me devoure : 

But I, that knew myselfe from perill free. 

Did nought regard his malice nor his powre ; 

But he the more his wicked poyson forth did poure/* 

" That surely is that beast," saide Calidore, 
" Which I pursue, of whom I am right glad 
To heare these tidings which of none afore 
Through all my weary travell I have had : 
Yet now some hope your words unto me add." 
** Now God you speed," quoth then Sir Artegall, 
"And keepe your body from the daunger drad; 
Por ye have much adoe to deale withall I" 
So both tooke goodly leave, and parted severall. 

Sir Calidore thence travelled not long, 

Whenas by chaunce a comely squire he found. 

That thorough some more mighty enemies wrong 

Both hand and foote unto a tree was bound; 

Who, seeing him frofn farre, with piteous sound 

Of his shrill cries him called to his aide: 

To whom approching. in that painefull stound 

When he him saw, for no demaunds he staide. 

But first him losde, and afterwards thus to him saidi 



658 THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 

" Unliappy squire, wliat hard misliap tliee brouglit 
Into this ba}^ of perill and disgrace ? 
What cruell hand thy wretched thraldome wrought. 
And thee captyved in this shamefull place ?" 
To whom he answered thus ; " My haplesse case 
Is not occasioned through my misdesert, 
But through misfortune, which did me abase 
Unto this shame, and my young hope subvert. 
Ere that I in her guilefull traines was well expert. 

** Not farre from hence, uppon yond rocky hill. 

Hard by a streight there stands a castle strong. 

Which doth observe a custome lewd and ill, 

And it hath long mayntaind with mighty wrong: 

[For may no knight nor lady passe along 

That way, (and yet they needs must passe that way. 

By reason of the streight, and rocks among,) 

But they that ladies lockes doe shave away, 

And that knights beard, for toll which they for passage pay." 

" A shamefuJl use as ever I did heare,** 

Sayd Calidore, ** and to be overthrowne. 

But by what meanes did they at first it reare. 

And for what cause ? tell if thou have it knowne." 

Sayd then that squire; " The lady, which doth owne 

This castle, is by name Briana hight; 

Then which a prouder lady liveth none: 

She long time hath deare lov'd a doughty knight. 

And sought to win his love by aU the meanes she might. 

"His name is Crudor; who, through high disdaine 

And proud despight of his selfe-pleasing mynd, 

Befused hath to yeeld her love againe, 

Untill a mantle she for him doe fynd, 

With beards of knights and locks of ladies lynd: 

Which to provide, she hath this castle dight. 

And therein hath a seneschal) assynd, 

Cald Maleffort, a man of mickle might. 

Who executes her wicked will with worse despight. 

" He, this same day as I that way did come 

With a faire damzell my beloved deare. 

In execution of her lawlesse doome 

Pid set upon us flying both for feare ; 

!For little bootes against him hand to reare: 

Me first he tooke unliable to withstond. 

And whiles he her pursued every where. 

Till his returne unto this tree he bond; 

Ne wote I surely whether he her yet have fond.'* 



THE FAEEIE QtJEENE. 659 

Tims whiles they spake they heard a rueful! shrieke 
or one loud crying, which they streightway ghest 
That it was she the which for helpe did seeke. 
Tho, looking up unto the cry to lost. 
They saw that carle from farre with hand unblest 
Hayhng that mayden by the yellow heare, 
That all her garments from her snowy brest, 
And from her head her lockes he nigh did tears, 
3S"e would he spare for pitty, nor refraine for feare. 

Which haynous sight when Cahdore beheld, 

Eftsoones'he loosd that squire, and so him left 

With hearts dismay and inward dolour queld. 

For to pussue that vUlaine, which had reft 

That piteous spoile by so iniurious theft : 

Whom overtaking, loude to him he cryde ; 

" Leave, faytor, quickely that misgotten weft 

To him that hath it better iustifyde, 

And turne thee soone to him of whom thou art defyde. 

Who, hearkning to that voice, himselfe upreard, 

And, seeing him so fiercely towardes make. 

Against him stoutly ran, as nought afeard. 

But rather more enrag'd for those words sake; 

And with sterne count'naunce thus unto him spake; 

" Art thou the caytive that defyest me. 

And for this mayd, whose party thou doest take. 

Wilt give thy beard, though it but little bee? 

Yet shall it not her lockes for raunsome fro me free." 

With that he fiercely at him flew, and layd 
On hideous strokes with most importune might. 
That oft he niade him stagger as unstayd. 
And oft recuile to shunne his sliarpe despight: 
But Cahdore, that was well skild in fight. 
Him long forbore, and still his spirite spared. 
Lying in waite how him he damadge might: 
But when he felt him shrinke, and come to ward. 
He greater grew, and gan to drive at him more hard. 

Like as a water-streame, whose swelling sourse 
Shall drive a miU, within strong bancks is pent. 
And long restrayned of his ready course; 
So soone as passage is unto him lent, 
Breakes forth, and makes his way more Tiolent; 
Such was the fury of Sir Calidore: 
When once he felt his foe-man to relent, 
He fiercely him pursu'd, and pressed sore; 
Who as he still decayd, so he encreased more. 



660 THE FAEEIE QITEENE. 

The heavy burden of whose dreadfull might 

Whenas the carle no longer could sustaine, 

His heart gan faint, and streight he tooke his flight 

Toward the castle, where, if need constraine. 

His hope of refuge used to remaine: 

Whom Calidore perceiving fast to flie. 

He him pursued and chaced through the plainer 

That he for dread of death gan loude to crie 

Unto the ward to open to him hastihe. 

They, from the wall him seeing so aghast. 
The gate soone opened to receive him in; 
!But Calidore did follow him so fast, ^ 
That even in the porch he him did win. 
And cleft his head asunder to his chin: 
The carkasse tumbling downe within the dore 
Did choke the entraunce with a lumpe of sin. 
That it could not be shut; whilest Calidore 
Did enter in, and slew the porter on the flore. 

With that the rest the which the castle kept 

About him flockt, and hard at him did lay; 

But he them all from him full lightly swept. 

As doth a steare, in heat of somraers day, 

With his long taile the bryzes brush away. 

Thence passing forth into the hall he came. 

Where of the lady selfe in sad dismay 

He was ymett, who with uncomely shame 

Gan him salute, and fowle upbrayd with faulty blame: 

** False traytor knight," said she, " no knight at all, 

But scorne of armes! that hast with guilty hand 

Murdered my men, and slaine my seneschall; 

JN'ow comest thou to rob my house unmand, 

And spoile my selfe, that cannot thee withstand? 

Yet doubt thou not, but that some better knight 

Then thou, that shall thy treason understand, 

Will it avenge, and pay thee with thy right: 

And if none do, yet shame shall thee with shame requight/ 

Much was the knight abashed at that word ; 

Yet answer'd thus; " Not unto me the shame. 

But to the shamefull doer it afford. 

Bloud is no blemish; for it is no blame 

To punish those that doe deserve the same; 

But they that breake bands of civihtie. 

And wicked customes make, those doe defame 

Both noble armes and gentle curtesie: 

No gi'eater shame to man then inhumanitie. 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 661 

*' Tlien doe yourselfe, for dread of sliame forgoe, 

Tbis evill manner which ye here maintaine. 

And doe instead thereof mild curt'sie showe 

To all that passe: that shall you glory gaine 

More then his lore, which thus ye seeke t'obtaine/* 

Wherewith all full of wrath she thus replyde ; 

" Vile recreant! know that I doe much disdaine 

Thy courteous lore, that doest my love deride, 

Wiio scornes thy ydle scoffe, and bids thee be defyde.*' 

*' To take defiaunce at a ladies word,** 

Quoth he, " I hold it no indignity; 

Bat were he here, that would it with his sword 

Abett, perhaps he mote it deare aby." 

** Cowherd," quoth she, " were not that thou wouldst fly 

Ere he doe come, he should be soone in place." 

" If I doe so," sayd he, ** then liberty 

I leave to you for aye me to disgrace 

With all those shames, that erst ye spake m© to deface." 

With that a dwarfe she cald to her in hast, 

And taking from her hand a ring of gould 

(A privy token which betweene them past) 

Bad him to flie with all the speed he could 

To Crudor; and desire him that he would 

Vouchsafe to reskue her against a knight. 

Who through strong powre had now herself in hould, 

Having late slaine her seneschall in fight. 

And all her people murdred with outragious might: 

The dwarfe his way did hast, and went all night: 

Bnt Calidore did with her there abyde 

The comming of that so much threatned knight; 

Where that discourteous dame with scornfull pryde 

And fowle entreaty him indignifyde. 

That yron heart it hardly could sustaine: 

Yet he, that could his wrath fiiU wisely guyde. 

Did well endure her womanish disdaine, 

And did himselfe from fraile impatience refraine. 

The morrow next, before the lampe of light 
Above the earth upreard his flaming head. 
The dwarfe, which bore that message to her knight. 
Brought aunswere backe, that ere he tasted bread 
He would her succour, and alive or dead 
Her foe deliver up into her hand : 
Therefore he wil'd her doe away all dread; 
And, that of him she mote assured stand. 
He sent to her his basenet as a faithfull band» 
29 



663 THE FAEEIE QUEENE* 

Thereof ftill Wytli the lady strei^Tit became, 

Aud gan t' augment her bitternesse much more: 

Yet no whit more appalled for the same, 

"Ng ought dismayed was Sir Calidore ; 

But rather did more chearefull seeme therefore: 

And, having soone his armes about him dight. 

Did issue forth to meete his foe afore ; 

Where long he stayed not, whenas a knight 

He spide come pricking on with all his powre and might. 

Well weend he streight that he should be the same 
Which tooke in hand her quarrell to maintaine, 
Ne stayd to aske if it were he by name, 
But coucht his speare, and ran at him amaine. 
Iliey bene ymett in middest of the plaine 
With so fell fury and despiteous forse, 
That neither could the others stroke sustaine. 
But rudely rowld to ground both man and horse, 
Neither of other taking pitty nor remorse. 

But Calidore uprose againe full light, 

Whiles yet his foe lay fast in sencelesse sound ; 

Yet would he not him hurt although he might: 

For shame he weend a sleeping wight to wound. 

But when Briana saw that drery stound. 

There where -she stood uppon the castle wall, 

She deem'd him sure to have bene dead on ground, 

And made such piteous mourning therewith all, 

That from the battlements she ready seem'd to faU. 

Nathlesse at length himselfe he did upreare 

In lustlesse wise ; as if against his will, 

Ere he had slept his fill, he wakened were, 

And gan to stretch his limbs ; which feeling ill 

Of his late fall, awhile he rested still : 

But, when he saw his foe before in vew. 

He shooke off luskishnesse ; and, courage chill 

Kindling afresh, gan battel! to renew. 

To prove if better foote then horsebacke would ensew* 

There then began a fearefull cruell fray 

Betwixt them two for maystery of might : 

For both were wondrous practicke in that play. 

And passing well exipert in single fight. 

And iDOth inflam'd with furious despiglit ; 

Which as it stiU encreast, so stiU increast 

Their cruell strokes and terrible affright ; 

Ne once for ruth their rigour thej^ releast, 

JSTe once to breath awhile their angers tempest ccast. 



THE FAERIE QTJEENE. 663 

Thus Ions: they traced and traversfc to and fro, 

And tryde all waies how each mote entrance malce 

Into the life of his malignant foe ; 

They hew'd their helmes, and plates asunder brake, 

As they had potshares bene ; for iiou<2:ht mote slake 

Their greedy vengeaunces but goary blood ; 

That at the last like to a purple lake 

Of bloudy gore congeal'd about them stood. 

Which from their riven sides forth gushed like a flood. 

At length it chaunst that both their hands on hie 

At once did heave with all their powre and might, 

Thinking the utmost of their force to trie. 

And prove the finall fortune of the fight ; 

But Calidore, that was more quicke of sight 

And nimbler-handed then, his enemie. 

Prevented him before his stroke could light. 

And on the helmet smote him formerlie, 

That made him stoupe to ground with meeke humilitie: 

And, ere he could recover foote againe, 

He following that faire advantage fast 

His stroke redoubled with such might and maino. 

That him upon the ground he groveling cast j 

And leaping to him liglit would have unlast 

His helme, to make unto his vengeance way : 

Who, seeing in what daunger he was plast, 

Cryde out ; " Ah mercie, sir ! doe me not slay, 

Bat save my life, which lot before your foot doth lay/* 

With Ihat his mortaU hand awhile he stayd ; 

And, having somewhat calm'd his wrathfull heat 

With goodly patience, thus he to him sayd ; 

"And is the boast of that proud ladies threat. 

That menaced me from the field to beat. 

Now brought to this ? By this now may ye learne 

Strangers no more so rudely to entreat : 

But put away proud looke and usage steme, 

The which shal nought to you but foule dishonor yearnew 

" For nothing is more blamefull to a knight. 
That court'sie do^h as well as armes professe. 
However strong and fortunate in fight. 
Then the reproch of pride and cruelnesse : 
In vaine he seeketh others to suppresse, 
Who hath not learnd himselfe first to subdew: 
All flesh is frayle and full of ficklenesse, 
Subiect to fortunes chance, still chaunging new; 
What haps to day to mo to morrow may to you. 



664 THE FAEEIE QXJEENftj 

" Wlio will not mercie nnto otiiers sliew. 

How can lie mercy cA^er hope to have ? 

To pay eacli witli his owne is right and dew: 

Yet since ye mercie now doe need to crave, 

I will it graunt, your hopelesse life to save, 

"With these conditions which I will propound: 

First, that ye better sliall yourselfe behave 

Unto all errant knights, whereso on ground; 

!Next, that ye ladies a3^de in every stead and stound.** 

The wretched man, that all this while did dwell 

In dread of death, his heasts did gladly heare, 

And promist to per forme his precept well, 

And whatsoever else he would requere. 

So, suffring him to rise, he made him sweare 

By his owne sword, and by the crosse thereon. 

To take Brian a for his loving fere 

AVithouten dowre or composition : 

But to release his former foule condition. 

All which accepting, and with faithful! otii 

Bynding himselfe most firmely to obay. 

He up arose, however liefe or loth, 

And swore to him true fealtie for aye. 

Then forth he cald from sorrowfull dismay 

The sad Briana which all this beheld ; 

Wiio comming forth yet full of late affray 

Sir Cahdore upcheard, and to her teld 

All this accord to which he Crudor had compeld. 

Whereof she now more glad than sory earst. 

All overcome with infinite affect 

For his exceeding courtesie, that pears t 

Her stubborne hart with inward deepe effect, 

Before his feet herselfe she did proiect ; 

^nd him adoring as her lives deare lord. 

With all due thankes and dutifull respect, 

Herselfe acknowledg'd bound for that accord, 

By which he had to her both life and love restord. 

So all returning to the castle glad, ^ 

iV'fost ioyfully she them did entertaine ; 

Where goodly glee and feast to them she made. 

To shew her thankefull mind and meaning faine. 

By all the meanes she mote it best explaine 

And, after all, unto Sir Calidore^ 

She freely gave that castle for his paine. 

And herselfe bound to him for evermore ; 

So wondrously now chaung'd from that she was afore. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 665 

But Calidore liimselfe would not retaine 
Nor land nor foe for liyre of his good dsede. 
But gave them streight unto that squire againe. 
Whom from her aeneschall he lately freed, 
And to his damzell, as their rightfull meed 
'For recompence of all their former wrong : 
TKere he remaind with them right well agreed, 
Till of his wounds he wexed hole and strong ; 
And then to his first quest he passed forth along. 



CANTO n. 

Calidore sees young Tristram slay 

A proud discourteous knight : 
He makes him squire, and of him leamefl 

His state and present plight. 

What vertue is so fitting for a knight, 

Or for a ladie whom a knight should love, 

As curtesie ; to beare themselves aright 

To all of each degree as doth behove ? 

Por whether the}'- be placed high above 

Or low beneath, yet ought they well to know 

Their good ; that none them rightly may reprove 

Of rudenesse for not yeelding what they owe : 

Great skill it is such duties tiniely to bestow. 

Thereto great helps dame Nature selfe doth lend: 

For some so goodly gratious are by kind, • 

That every action doth them much commend, 

And in the eyes of men great likini? find : 

Which others that have greater skill in mind. 

Though they enforce themselv^es, cannot attaine: 

For everie thing, to which one is inclin'd, 

Doth best become and greatest grace doth ^aine : ^ 

Yet praise likewise deserve good thewes enlorst with paine. 

That well in courteous Calidore appeares ; 

Whose everie act and deed, that he did say. 

Was like enchantment, that through both the eyes 

And both the cares did steale the hart away. 

He now agjiine is on his former way 

To follow his first quest, whenas he spyde ' 

A tall young man, from thence not farre away 

Fighting on foot, as well he him descry de, 

Against aa armed knight that did on liorsebacke ryde. 



666 THE TAEEIE QTTEENB. 

And tliem "beside a ladie faire he saw 
Standing alone on foote in foule array; 
To whom himselfe he hastily did draw 
To weet the cause of so uncomely fray. 
And to depart them, if so he ho may : 
- But, ere he came in place, that youth had kild 
That armed knightjJ:hat low on ground he lay ; 
Which when he saw, his hart was inly child 
With great amazement, and his thought with wonder fili 

Him stedfastly he markt, and saw to bee 

A goodly youth of amiable grace, 

Yet but a slender slip, that scarse did see 

Yet seventeene yeares, but tall and faire of face. 

That sure he deem'd him borne of noble race : 

All in a woodmans iacket he was clad 

Of Lincolne greene, belayd with silver lace ; 

And on his head an hood with aglets sprad. 

And by his side his hunters home he hanging Lai 

Buskins he wore of costliest cordwayne, 
Pinckt upon gold, and paled part per part, 
As then the guize was for each gentle swajoie 2 
In his right hand he held a trembling dart, 
Whose fellow he before had sent apart ; 
And in his left he held a sharpe bore-speare. 
With which he wont to launch the salvage hart 
Of many a lyon and of many a beare, 
That first unto his hand in chase did happen neare. 

Wliom Calidore awhile well having vewed, 

At length bespake ; " what meanes this, gentle swaine ! 

Why hath thy hand too bold itselfe embrewed 

In blood of knight, the which by thee is slaine, 

Ey thee no knight ; which armes impugneth plaine !** 

" Certes," said he, " loth were I to have broken 

The law of armes ; yet breake it should againe, 

Bather then let myselfe of wight be stroken, 

So long as these two armes were able to be wroken, 

'* For not I him, as this his ladie here 

May witnesse well, did offer first to wrong, 

Ne surely thus unarm'd I likely were ; 

But he me first through pride and puissance strong 

Assayld, not knowing what to armes doth long." 

** Perdie great blame," then said Sir Calidore, 

" For armed knight a wight unarm'd to wrong : 

But then aread, thou gentle chyld, wherefore 

Betwizt you two began this strife and sterna uprore. 



THE FAEEIE QXJEENE. 667 

" That shall I sooth," said he, " to you declare. 

I, whose unryper yeares are yet unlit 

For thing of weight or worke of greater care, 

Doe spend my dayes and bend my carelesse wifc 

To salvage chace, where I th reon may hit 

In all this forrest and wyld woodie raine ; 

Where, as this day I was enraunging it, 

I chaunst to meete this knight who there lyes slaine. 

Together with this ladie, passing on the plaine. 

" The knight, as ye did see, on horsebacke was. 
And this his ladie, that him ill became, 
On her faire feet by his horse-side did pas 
Through thicke and thin, unfit for any dame: 
Yet not content, more to increase his shame, 
Whenso she lagged, as shee needs mote so. 
He with his speare (that was to him great blame) 
Would thumpe her forward and inforce to goe. 
Weeping to him in vaine and making piteous woe. 

" Which when I saw, as they me passed by. 

Much was I moved in indignant mind, 

And gan to blame him for such cruelty 

Towards a ladie, whom with usage kind 

He rather should have taken up beliind. ^ 

Wherewith he wroth and full of proud disdaine 

Tooke in foule scorne that I such fault did find. 

And me in lieu thereof revil'd againe, 

Threatning to chastize me, as doth t* a chyld pertaine. 

" Which I no lesse disdayning, backe returned 
His scornefuU taunts unto his teeth againe, 
That he streightway with haughtie choler burned, 
And with his speare strooke me one stroke or twaine; 
Which I, enforst to beare though to my paine, 
Cast to requite ; and with a slender dart, ^ 
Fellow of this I beare, throwne not in vaine, 
Strooke him, as seemeth, underneath the hart, 
That through the wound his spirit shortly did depart.** 

Much did Sir Calidore admyre his speach 

Tempred so well, but more admyr'd the stroke 

That through the mayles had made so strong a breach 

Into his hart, and had so sternely wroke 

His wrath on him that first occasion broke. 

Yet rested not, but further gan inquire 

Of that same ladie, whether what he spoke 

Were soothly so, and that th* unrighteous ire 

Of her owne knight had given him his owne due hire. 



66B THE rAEKlE QTJEENE. 

Of all wliicli wlienas slie conld nouglit deny, 

Put cleard that stripling of tli* imputed blarney 

Sayd then Sir Calidore; "Neither will I 

Him charge with guilt, but rather doe quite clame : 

For, what he spake, for you he spake it, dame ; 

And what he did, he did himselfe to save: 

Against both which that knight wrought kniglitlesse shame: 

For knights and all men tliis by nature have, 

Towards all womenkind them kindly to behave, 

** But, sith that he is gone irrevocable, 

Please it you, ladie, to us to aread 

"What cause could make him so dishonourable 

To drive you so on foot, unfit to tread 

And lackey by him, gainst all womanhead." 

" Certes, sir knight," sayd she, " full loth I were 

To rayse a lyving blame against the dead: 

But, since it me concernes myselfe to clere, 

I will the truth discover as it chaunst whylere. 

" This day, as he and I together roade 

Upon our way to which we weren bent. 

We chaunst to come foreby a covert glade 

Within a wood, whereas a ladie gent 

Sate with a knight in ioyous ioUiment 

Of their franke loves, free from all gealous spyes 

Faire was the ladie sure, that mote content 

An hart not carried with too curious eyes, 

And unto him did shew all lovely curtesyes. 

"Whom when my knight did see so lovely faire. 
He inly gan her lover to eryvy, 
And wish that he part of his spoyle might share : 
Whereto whenas my presence he did spy 
To be a let, he bad me by and by 
For to alight: but, whenas I was loth. 
My loves owne part to leave so suddenly. 
He with strong hand down from his steed me throw' th. 
And with presumptuous powre against that knight streight 
go'th. 

" Unarm'd all was the knight, as then more meete 

For ladies service and for loves delight. 

Then fearing any foeman tnere to meete : 

Whereof he taking oddes, streight bids him dight 

Himselfe to yeeld his love or else to fight: 

Whereat the other starting up dismayd. 

Yet boldly answer'd, as he rightly might, 

To leave his love he should be ill apayd. 

In which he had good right gainst all that it gainesayd. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 669 

** Yet since he was not presently in pliglit 

Her to defend, or his to iustifie, 

He liim requested, as' he was a knight, 

To lend him day his better right to trie, 

Or stay till he his armes, which were thereby, 

Miglit* lightly fetch: but he was fierce and whot 

!Ne time would give, nor any termes aby, 

But at him flew, and with his speare liim smot ; 

From which to thinke to saye himselfe it booted not. 

" Meane while his ladie, which this outrage saw, 
Whilest they together for the quarrey strove, 
Into the covert did herselfe withdraw. 
And closely hid herselfe within the grove. 
My knight hers soone, as seemes, to daunger drove 
And left sore wounded : but, when her he mist. 
He woxe halfe mad* and in that rage gan rove 
And range through all the wood, whereso he wist 
She hidden was, and sought her so long as him list. 

" But, whenas her he by no meanes could find. 
After long search and chaufF he turned backe 
Unto the place where me he left behind : 
There gan he me to curse and ban, for lacke 
Of that faire bootie, and with bitter wracke 
To wreake on me the guilt of his owne wrong: 
Of all which I yet glad to beare the packe 
Strove to ap; ease him, and perswaded long; 
Bat still his passion grew more violent and strong. 

" Then, as it were t'avenge his wrath on mee, 

When forward we should fare, he flat refused 

To take me up (as this young man did see) 

Upon his steed, for no iust cause accused, 

But forst to trot on foot, and foule misused, 

Pounching me with the butt-end of his speare. 

In vaine complayning to be so abused; 

For he regarded neither playnt nor teare, 

But more enforst my paine, the more my plaints to heareu 

** So passed we, till this young mnn us met ; 
And being moov'd with pittie of my plight 
Spake as was meete, for ease of my regret: 
"Whereof befell what now is in your sight." ^ * 
*' Now sure," then said Sir Calidore, " and right 
Meseemcs that him befell by his owne fault: 
Whoever thinkes through confidence of might. 
Or through support of count'nance proud and hault. 
To wrong the weaker, ofb falles in his owne assault." 



670 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

Tben turning: backe unto tliat gentle boy, 

"Which had himselfe so stoutly well acquit; 

Seeh]g his face so lovely sterne and coy, 

And hearing th' answeres ot his pregnant wit. 

He praysd it much, and much admyred it; 

That sure he weend him born of noble blood. 

With whom those graces did so goodly fit: 

And, when he long had him beholding stood, 

He burst into these wordes, as to him seemed good; 

" Faire gentle swayne, and yet as stout as fayre. 

That in these woods amongst the nymphs dost wonne, 

Which daily may to thy swoete lookes reparye, 

As they are wont unto Latonaes sonne 

After his chace on woodie Cynthus donne; 

Well may I certes such an one thee read, 

As by thy worth thou worthily hast wonne, 

Or surely borne of some heroicke sead. 

That in thy face appeares and gratious goodly-head. 

*' But, shonld it not jdisplease thee it to tell, 
(Unlesse thou in these woods thyselfe conceale 
For love amongst the woodie gods to dwell,) 
I would thyselfe require thee to reveale ; 
For deare affection and unfayned zeale 
Which to thy noble personage I beare. 
And wish thee grow in worship and great weale : 
For, since the day that armes I first did reare, 
I never saw in any greater hope appeare." 

To whom then thus the noble youth ; " May b^ 

Sir knight, that, by discovering my estate, 

Harme may arise unweeting unto me : 

INTathelesse, sith ye so courteous seemed late. 

To you I will not feare it to relate. 

Then wote ye that I am a Briton borne, 

Sonne of a king, (however thorough fate 

Or fortune I my conn trie have forlone, 

And lost the crowne which should my head by right adome.) 

'^ And Tristram is my name: the onely heire 
Of good king Meliogras which did rayne 
In Cornewale, till that he through lives despeire 
Untimely dyde, -before I did attaine 
Bipe yeares of reason, my right to maintaine; 
After whose death his brother, seeing mee 
An infant, weake a kingdome to sustaine. 
Upon him tooke the roiall high degree. 
And sent me, where him list, instructed for to bee. 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENB. 671 

" The widow queene my mother, which then hightt 

Faire Emiline, conceiving then great feare 

Of my fraile safetie, resting in the might 

Of him that did the kingly scepter beare. 

Whose gealous dread induring not a peare 

Is wont to cut off all that doubt may breed; 

Thought best away me to remove somewhere 

Into some forrein land, whereas no need 

Of dreaded daunger might his donbtfull humor feed. 

** So, taking counsell of a wise man red. 

She was by him adviz'd to send me quight 

Out of the countrie wherein I was bred. 

The which the fertile Lionesse is hight, 

Into the land of Faerie, where no wight 

Should weet of me, nor worke me any wrong: 

To whose wise read she hearkning sent me streight 

Into this land, where I have wond thus long 

Since I was ten yeares old, now grown to stature strong. 

*' AH which my daies I have not lewdly spent, 

Nor spilt the blossome of my tender yeares 

In ydlenesse; but, as was convenient. 

Have trayned bene with many noble feres 

In gentle thewes and such like seemly leres: 

Mongst which my most delight hath alwaies been 

To hunt the salvage chace, amongst my peres. 

Of all that raungeth in the forrest greene. 

Of which none is to me unknowne that e'er was seene. 

" Ne is there hauke which mantleth her on pearch, 

"Whether high towring or accoasting low. 

But I the measure of her flight doe search, 

And all her pray and all her diet know: 

Such be our ioyes which in these forrests grow: 

Onely the use of armes, which most I ioy, 

And fitteth most for noble swayne to know, 

I have not tasted yet; yet past a boy. 

And being now high time these strong ioynts to imploy. 

" Therefore, good sir, sith now occasion fit 

Doth fall, whose like hereafter seldome may, 

Let me this crave, unworthy though of it, 

That ye will make me squire without delay. 

That from henceforth in batteilous array 

I may beare armes, and learne to use them right ; 

The rather, since that fortune hath this day 

Given to me the spoile of this dead knight. 

These goodly gilden armes which I have won in fight/* 



672 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

AU wliicli when well Sir Calidore liad heard, 
Him much more now, then earst, he gan admire 
For the rare hope which in his yeares appear'd. 
And thus replide ; " Faire chyld, the high desire 
To love of armes, which in you doth aspire, 
I may not certes without blame denie ; 
But rather wish that some more noble hire 
(Though none more noble then is chevalrie) 
I had, you to reward with greater dignitie." 

There him he causd to kneele, and made to sweare 

Paith to his knight, and truth to ladies all. 

And never to be recreant for feare 

Of perill, or of ought that might befall : 

So he him dubbed, and his squire did call. 

Full glad and ioyous then young Tristram grew j 

Like as a flowre, whose silken leaves small 

Long shut up in the bud from heavens vew. 

At length breaks forth, and brode displayes his smyling hew. 

Thus when they long had treated to and fro. 

And Calidore betooke him to depart, 

Chyld Tristram prayd that he with him might goe 

On his adventure, vowing not to start. 

But wayt on him in every place and part: 

Whereat Sir Calidore did much delight, 

And greatly ioy'd at his so noble hart, 

In hope he sure would prove a doughtie knight : 

Yet for the time this answere he to him behight ; 

" Glad would I surely be, thou courteous squire. 
To have thy presence in my present quest, 
That mote thy kindled courage set on fire, 
And flame forth honour in thy noble brest : 
But I am bound by vow, which I profest 
To my dread soveraine, when I it assayd. 
That in atchievement of her high behest 
I should no creature ioyne unto mine ayde ; 
Forthy I may not graunt that ye so greatly prayde. 

"But since this ladie is all desolate. 
And needeth safegard now upon her way. 
Ye may doe well in this her needfull state 
To succour her from daunger of dismay, 
That thankfull guerdon may to you repay." 
The noble ympe, of such new service fayne, 
It gladly did accept, as he did say : 
So taking courteous leave they parted twayne j 
And Calidore forth passed to his former payne. 



THE FAESIE QtTEENE. 673 

But Tristram, then despoylinpj that dead knight 
Of all those goodly implements of prayse, ^ 
Long fed his greedie eyes with the fayre sight 
Of the bright met tall shyning like sunne rayes. 
Handling and turning them a thousand wayes ; 
And, after having them upon him dight. 
He tooke that ladie, and her up did rayse 
Upon the steed of her owne late dead knight : ^ 
So with her inarched forth, as she did him behight. 

There to their fortune leave we them awhile. 

And turne we backe to good Sir Calidore ; 

Who, ere he thence had traveild many a mile. 

Came to the place whereas ye heard afore 

This knight, whom Tristram slew, had wounded sore 

Another knight in his despiteous prj^de; 

There he that knight found lyiug on the flore 

With many wounds full perilous and wyde, 

That all his garments and the grasse in vermeill dyde : 

And there beside him sate upon the ground 
His wofull ladie, piteously complayning 
With loud laments that most unluckie stound, ^ 
And her sad selfe with care full hand constrayning 
To wype his wounds, and ease their bitter payning. 
Which sorie sight when Calidore did vew, 
With heavie eyne from teares uneath refrayning. 
His migh tie hart their mournefull case can rew, 
And for their better comfort to them nigher drew. 

Then, speaking to the ladie, thus he said ; 

** Ye dolefull dame, let not your griefe empeach 

To tell what cruell hand hath thus arayd 

This knight unarm'd with so unknightly breach 

Of armes, that, if I yet him nigh may reach 

I may avenge him of so foide despight." 

The ladie, hearing his so courteous speach, 

Gan reare her eyes as to the chearcfull light, 

And from her sory hart few heavie words forth sigh*t, 

In which she shew'd, how that discourteous knight 

Whom Tristram slew, them in that shadow found 

loying together in unblam'd delight ; 

And him unarm'd, as now he lay on ground, 

Charg'd with his speare, and mortally did wound, 

Withouten cause, but oncly her to reave 

From him, to whom she was for ever bound: 

Yet, when she lied into that covert grcavc, 

He, her not finding, both them thus nigh dead did leave. 



674 THE PAERIE QTTEENB. 

When Calidore tliis rueful! storie had 

Well understood, he gan of her demand, 

What manner wight he was, and how yclad. 

Which had this outrage wrought with wicked hani 

She then, like as she best could understand. 

Him thus desctib'd, to be of stature large. 

Clad all in gilden armes, with azure band 

Quartred athwart, and bearing in his targe 

A ladie on rough waves row'd in a sommer barge. 

Then gan Sir Calidore to ghesse streightway. 

By many signes which she described had. 

That this was he whom Tristram earst did slay. 

And to her said ; " Dame, be no longer sad; 

For he, that hath your knight so ill bestad, 

Is now himselfe in much more wretched plight; 

These eyes him saw upon the cold earth sprad. 

The meede of his desert for that despight. 

Which to yourselfe he wrought and to your loved knight, 

" Therefore, faire ladie, lay aside this griefe. 
Which ye have gathered to your gentle hart 
For that displeasure ; and thinke what relief© 
Were best devise for this your lovers smart : 
And how ye may him hence, and to what part, 
Convay to be recur'd." She thankt him' dearo, 
Both for that newes he did to her impart. 
And for the courteous care which he did beare 
Both to her love and to herselfe in that sad drearo. 

Yet could she not devise by any wit. 
How thence she might convay him to some place ; 
For him to trouble she it thought unfit, 
That was a straunger to her wretched case : 
And him to beare, she thought it thing too base 
Which whenas he perceiv'd he thus bespake ; 
** Faire lady, let it not you seeme disgrace 
To beare this burden on your dainty backe ; 
Myselfe will beare a part, coportion of your packe.** 

So off he did his shield, and downeward layd 

Upon the ground, like to an hollow beare; 

And powring balme, which he had long purvayd. 

Into his wounds, him up thereon did reare, 

And twixt them both with parted paines did beare, ^ 

Twixt life and death, not knowing what was donne : 

Thence they him carried to a castle neare, 

£n which a worthy auncient knight did wonne : 

Where what ensu'd shall in next canto be begonne. 



<ms FAEBIS QUEENS. 675 



CANTO HL 

Calidore brings Priscilla home; 

Pursues the blatant beast ; 
Caves Serena, wliilest Calepino 

By Turpine is opprest. 

True is, that wMlome that prood poet sayd. 

The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne : 

For a man by nothing; is so well bewra3^d 

As by his manners ; in which plaine is showne 

Of what degree and what race he is growne : 

Tor seldome scene a trotting stalion get 

An. ambling colt, that is his proper owne : 

So seldome scene that one in basenesse set 

Doth noble courage shew with curteous manners met. 

But evermore contrary hath bene tryde, 

That gentle bloud will gentle manners breed; 

As well may be in Calidore descryde, 

By late ensample of that courteous deed 

Done to that wounded knight in his great need. 

Whom on his backe he bore, till he him brought 

Unto the castle where they had decreed : 

There of the knight, the which that castle ought, 

To make abode that night he greatly was besought. 

He was to weete a man of full ripe yeares. 

That in his youth had beene of mickle might, 

And borne great sway in armes among his peares I 

But now weake age had dimd his candlelight : 

Yet was he courteous still to every wight, * 

And loved all that did to armes incline ;^ 

And was the father of that wounded knight, 

Whom Cahdore thus carried on his chine ; 

And Aldus was his name ; and his sonnes, Aladine. 

Who when he saw his sonne so ill bedight 

With bleeding wounds, brought home upon a beare 

By a faire lady and a straunger knight. 

Was inly touched with compassion deare, 

And deare affection of so dolefull dreare. 

That he these words burst forth; "Ah! sory boy! 

Is this the hope that to my hoary heare 

Thou brings ? aie me ! is this the timely ioy, 

Wkick I expected long, now turnd to sad annoy? 



676 THE PAERIE QUEENE. 

. " Sucli is the weakenesse of all mortall hope. 
So tickle is the state of earthly things ; 
That, ere they come unto their aymed scope. 
They fall too short of our fraile reckonings. 
And bring us bale and bitter sorrowings, 
Instead of comfort which we should embracer 
This is the state of keasars and of kings ! 
Let none therefore, that is in meaner place. 
Too greatly grieve at any his unlucky case ;" 

So well and wisely did that good old knight 

Temper his griefe, and turned it to cheare, 

To cheare his guests whom he had stayd that night. 

And make their welcome to them well appeare: 

That to Sir Calidore was easie geare ; 

But til at faire lady would be cheard for nought. 

But sigh'd and sorrow 'd for her lover deare. 

And inly did afflict her pensive thought 

With thinking to what case her name should now be brought. 

For she was daughter to a noble lord 

Which dwelt thereby, who sought her to affy 

To a great pere ; b t she did disaccord, 

ISTe cou'd her liking to his love apply, 

But lov'd this fresh young knight who dwelt her ny, 

The lusty Aladine, though meaner borne 

And of less j livelood and hab lity. 

Yet full of valour the which did adorne 

His meanesse much, and make her th* others riches scorne. 

So, having both found fit occasion, 

They met together in that luckelesse glade ; 

Wliere that proud knight in his presumption 

The gentle Aladine did earst invade. 

Being unarm'd and set in s cret shade. 

Whereof she now bethinking, gan t' advize 

B ow great a hazard she at earst had made 

Of her good fame; and further gan deviz 3 

How she the blame might salve with coloured disguize. 

But Calidore with all good courtesie 

Fain'd her to frolicke, and to put away 

The penave fit of her melancholic; 

And that old knight by all meanes did assay 

To make them both as merry as he may. 

S" they the evening pa-t till lime of rest; 

WTien Calidore in seemly good array 

Unto his bowre was brougiit, and there undrcst 

Did sleepe all night through weary travell of his quest# 



THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 6?7 

But faire Priscllla (so tliat lady liipjlit) 

Would to no bed, nor tak^ no kindely sleepe. 

But by her wounded love did watcli all nig at. 

And all the night for bitter anguish weepe, 

And with her tear:s his wounds did wash and steepe, 

So well she washt them, and so well slie watcht him. 

That of the deadly s wound, in which full deepe^ 

He drenched was, she at the length dispatclit him, 

Aud drove away the stound which mortally attacht him. 

The morrow next, when day gan to uplooke. 

He also gan uplooke with drery eye, 

Like one that out of deadly dreame awooko : 

Where when he saw his faire Pris cilia by. 

He deepely sigh'd, and groaned inwardly. 

To thinke of this i 1 state in which she stood; 

To wli ch she for his sake had weetingly 

Now brought herselfe, and blam'd her noble blood: 

For first, next afcer life, he tendered her good. 

Which she perceiving did with plenteous teares 
His care more then her owne compassionate, 
[Forge 'full of her owne to minde his I'eares : 
So both conspiring gan to intimate ^ 
Each others griefe with zeale affectionate. 
And twixt them twaine with equall care to cast 
How to save whole her hazarded estate ; 
For which the onely helpe now lefc them last 
Seem*d to be Calidore : all ot jer helpes were past. 

Him they did deeme, as sure to them he seemed, 
A courteous knight and full of faithPuU trusb; 
Therefore to him their cause they best esteemed 
Whole to commit, and to his dealing iust. 
Earely, so soone as Tit ms beames forth brust 
Through the thicke clouds, in which they steeped lay 
All night in darknesse, duld with yron rust, 
Calidore rising up as fresh as day 
Gan freshly Inm address e unto liis former way. 

But first him seemed fit that wounded knight 
To visite, after this nights perillous passe ; 
And to salute him if he were in plight. 
And eke that lady his faire lovely lasse. 
There he him found much better then he was, 
And moved speach to him of things of course, 
The anguish of his paine to over-passe ; 
Mougst which he namely did to him discourse 
Of former dales mishap, his sorrowes wicked sourse 



678 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

Of wliicli occasion Aldine taking hold 
Gan breake to him the fortunes Of his lov^ 
•And all his disad ventures to unfold ; 
That Calidore it nearly deepe did move 
In th' end, his kjmdly courtesie to prove ; 
He him by all the bands of love besought. 
And as it mote a faithful! friend behove, 
To safe-conduct his love, and not for ought 
To leave^ till to her fathers house he had her brought. 

Sir Calidore his faith thereto did plight 

It to performe : so after little stay, 

That she herselfe had to the iourney dight. 

He passed forth with her in faire array, 

Fearlesse who ought did thinke or ought did say, 

Sith his own thought he knew most cleare from wite. 

So, as they past together on their way, 

He gan devize this counter-cast of slight. 

To give faire colour to that ladies cause in sight. 

Streight to the carkasse of that knight he went, 

(The cause of all this evill, who was slaine 

The day before by iust avengement 

Of noble Tristram,) where it did remaine ; 

There he the necke thereof did cut in twaine, 

And tooke with him the head, the signe of shame. 

So forth he passed thorough that daies paine, 

Till to that ladies fathers house he came ; 

Most pensive man, through feare what of his childe became. 

There he arriving boldly did present 

^J he fearefull lady to her father deare. 

Most pe feet pure, and guiltless innocent 

Of blame, as he did on his knighthood sweare. 

Since first he saw her, and did free from feare 

Of a discourteous knight, who her had refb 

And by outragious force away did beare : 

Witness thereof he shew'd his head there left. 

And wretched life forlorne for vengement of his thefl. 

Most ioyfull man her sire was, her to see. 
And hear th' adventure of her late mischaunce 5 
And thousand thankes to Calidore for fee 
Of his large paines in her dehveraunce 
Did yeeld ; ne lesse the lady did advaunce. 
Thus having her restored trustily. 
As he had vow'd, some small continuance 
He there did make, and then most carefully 
Unto Ills first exploite he did himselfe apply. 



THE FAEBIE QtTEENE. 679 

So, as lie was pnrsmng of his quest, 

He chaunst to come whereas a ioUy knigli 

la covert shade himselfe did safely rest. 

To solace with his lady in delight : 

His warlike armes he had from him undight ; 

For that himselfe he thought from daunger free. 

And far from envious eyes that mote him spight i 

And eke the lady was full faire to see, 

And courteeus withall, becomming her degree. 

To whom Sir Calidore approaching nye. 
Ere they were well aware of living wight, 
Them much abasht, but more himselfe thereby. 
That he so rudely did uppon them light. 
And troubled had their quiet loves delight : 
Yet since it was his fortune, not his fault, 
Himselfe thereof he labour'd to acquite, 
And pardon crav'd for his so rash default. 
That he gainst courtesie so fowly did default. 

With which his gentle words and goodly wit 

He soone allayd that knights conceived displeasure. 

That he besought him downe by him to sit. 

That they mote treat of things abrqde at leasuro 

And of adventures, which had in his measure 

Of so long waies to him befallen late. 

So downe he sate, and with delightfull pleasure 

His long adventures gan to him relate 

Which he endured had through daungerous debate 

Of which whilest they discoursed both together. 
The faire Serena (so his lady hight) 
Allur'd with myldnesse of the gentle wether 
And plesaunce of the place, the which was dight 
With divers flowres distinct with rare delight, 
Wandred about the fields, as hking led^ 
Her wavering lust after her wandring sight, 
To make a garland to adorne her hed, 
Without suspect of ill or daungers hidden dred. 

All sodainely out of the forrest nere 
The blatant beast forth rushing unaware 
Caught her thus loosely wandring here and there. 
And in his wide great mouth away her bare 
Crying aloud to shew her sad misfare 
Unto the knights, and calling oft for ayde; 
Who with the horrour of her haplesse care 
Hastily starting up, like men dismayde, 
Ran after fast to reskue the distressed mayde. 



680 THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 

The beast, witli their pursuit incited more. 
Into the wood was bearing her npace 
For to liave spoyled her ; when Calidore, 
Who was more Hght of foote and swift in chace. 
Him overtooke in middest of his race ; 
And, fiercely charging him with all liis might, 
Forst to forgoe his pray there in the place. 
And to betake himselfe to fearePuU flight ; 
For he durst not abide with Calidore to fight. 

Who nathelesse, when he the lady saw^ 
There left on ground, though in full evill plight. 
Yet knowing that her knight now neare did draw, 
Staide not to succour her in that affright, 
33ut followed fast the monster in his flight : 
Through woods and hils he follow'd him so fast. 
That he nonld let him breath nor gather spright, 
But forst him gape and gaspe, with dread aghast, 
As if his lungs and lites were nigh asunder brast. 

And now by this Sir Calepine, so hight. 

Came to the place where he his lady found 

In dolorous dismay and deadly plight, 

All in gore bloud there tumbled on the ground, 

Having both sides through grypt with griesly wounds 

His weapons soone from him he threw away, 

And stouping downe to her in drery swound 

TTprear'd her from the ground whereon she lay 

And in his tender armes her forced up to stay. 

So well he did his busie paines a";»ply,« 

That the faint spright he did revoke againe 

To her fraile mansion of mortality : 

Then up he tooke her twixt his armes twaine. 

And setting on his steede her did sustaine 

With carefull hands, soft footing her beside^ 

Till to some place of rest they mote attaine. 

Where she in safe assuraunce mote abide, 

Till she recured were of those her woundes wide. 

JN'ow whenas Phoebus with his fiery waine 

Unto his inne bepan to draw apace ; 

Tho, wexing weaiy of that toylesome paine. 

In travelling on foote so long a space, 

Not wont on foote with heavy armes to trace j 

Powne in a dale forby a rivers syde 

He chaunst to spie a faire and stately place. 

To which he meant his weary steps to guyde, 

In hope there for his love some succour to provyde. 



% 



THE PAEBIE QITEENE. 681 

Bat, commmg to tlie rivers side, he founi 

Tliat hardly passable on foote it was ; 

llierefore there still he stood as in a stound, 

Ne wist which way he throuo:h the foord mote pas: 

Thus whilest he was in this distressed case, 

Devising what to doe, he nigh espyde 

An armed knight approaching to the place 

"With a faire lady lincked by his syde. 

The which themselves prepard thorough the foord to ride. 

Whom Calepine saluting, as became. 

Besought of courtesie, in that his neede, 

For safe conducting of his sickoly dame 

Through that same perillous foord with better heede, 

To t ;ke him up behinde upon his steed ; 

To whom that other did this taunt returne ; 

** Perdy, thou peasant knight miglitst rightly reed 

Me then to be full base and evill borne. 

If I would beare behinde ^ burden of such scorne. 

** But, as thou hast thy steed forlorne with shame. 
So fare on foote till thou another gayne, 
And let thy lady likewise doe the same. 
Or beare her on thy backe with pleasing payne. 
And prove thy manhood on the billowes vayne.'* 
With which rude speach his lady much displeased 
Did him reprove, yet could him not restrayne. 
And would on her owne palfrey him have eased 
For pitty of his "dame whom she saw so diseased. 

Sir Calepine her thanckt ; yet, inly wroth 

Against her knight, her gentlenesse refused. 

And carelesly into the river go'th, 

As in despight to be so fowle abused 

Of a rude churle, whom often he accused 

Of fowle discourtesie, unlit for knight ; 

And, strongly wading through the waves unused. 

With speare in th* one hand stayd himselfe upri^rht, 

With th' other staide his lady up with s teddy might. 

And all the while that same discourteous knight 

Stood on the further bancke beholding him ; 

At whose calamity, for more despight, 

He laught, and mockt to see him like to swim. 

But whenas Calepine came to the brim, 

And saw his carriage past that perill well, 

Looking at that same carle with count'nance grim. 

His heart with vengeaunce inwardly did swell, 

And forth at last did breake ia spcaches sharp and fcU; 



682 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

"Unknightly tm'glit, tlie blemisli of that name, 
And blot of all that armes uppon them take, 
"Which is the badge of honour and of fame, 
Loe ! I defie thee ; and here challeDge make, 
That thou for ever doe those amies forsake. 
And be for ever held a recreant knight, 
Unlesse thou dare, for thy deare ladies sake 
And for thine owne defence, on foote alight 
To iustifie thy fault gainst me in equall fight,** 

The dastard, that did heare himselfe defyde, 
Seem'd not to weigh his threatfull words at all. 
But laught them out, as if his greater pryde 
Did scorne the challenge of so base a thrall ; 
Or had no courage, or else had no gall. 
So much the more was Calepine offended. 
That him to no revenge he forth could call, 
But both his challenge and himselfe contemned, 
"Ne cared as a coward so to be condemned. 

But he, nought weighing what he sayd or did. 

Turned his steede about another way. 

And with his lady to the castle rid, 

Where was his won ; ne did the other stay, • 

But after went directly as he may, 

For his sicke charge some harbour there to seekoj 

WTiere he arriving with the fall of day 

Prew to the gate, and there with prayers meeke 

Ajid myld entreaty lodging did for her beseeke. 

But the rude porter that no manners had 
Did shut the gate against him in his face 
And entraunce boldly unto him forbad : 
Nath'lesse the knight, now in so needy case, 
Gan him entreat even with submission base. 
And humbly praid to let them in that night : 
Who to him aunswer'd, that there was no place 
Of lodging fit for any errant knight, 
Unlesse that with his lord he formerly did fight. 

" Full loth am I,'* quoth he, " as now at earst 

When day is spent, and rest us needeth most. 

And that this lady, both whose sides are pearst 

With wounds, is ready to forgo the ghost ; 

Ne would I gladly combate with mine host, 

That should to me such curtesie afford, 

Unlesse that I were thereunto enforst : 

But yet aread to me, how hight thy lord, 

That doth thus strongly ward the castle of the ford.' 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

** His name," quotli lie, " if that tlaou list to learne. 

Is hight Sir Turpine, one of mickle might 

And manhood rare, but terrible and stearne 

In all assaies to every errant knight, 

Because of one that wrought him fowle despight/' 

" 111 seemes," sayd he, " if he so valiaunt be. 

That he should be so sterne to stranger wights 

For seldome yet did living creature see 

That curtesie and manhood ever disagree. 

" But go thy waies to him, and fro me say 

That here is at his gate an errant knight, 

That house-rome craves ; yet would be loth t* assay 

The proofs of battell now in doubtfall night, 

Or curtesie with rudenesse to requite : 

Yet, if he needes will fight, crave leave till morne. 

And tell withall the lamentable pHght 

In which this lady languisheth forlorne, 

That pitty craves, as he of woman was yborne." 

The groome went streightway in, and to his lord 

Declar'd the message which that knight did move ; 

Who, sitting with his lady then at bord, 

Not onely did not his demaund approve, 

But both himselfe revil'd and eke his love | 

Albe his lady, that Blandina hight. 

Him of ungentle usage did reprove. 

And earnestly entreated that they might 

Pinde favour to be lodged there ibr that same nighb. 

Yet would he not perswaded be for ought, 

Ne from his currish will awhit reclame.^ 

Which answer when the groome returning brought 

To Calepine, his heart did inly flame 

With wrathfuU fury for so foule a shame. 

That he could not thereof avenged bee; 

But most for pitty of his dearest dame. 

Whom now in deadly daunger he did see ; 

Yet had no meanes to comfort, nor procure her glee. 

But all in vaine ; for why? no remedy 

He saw the present mischiefe to redresse, 

But th* utmost end perforce for to aby, 

Which that nights fortune would for him addresse. 

So downe he tooke his lady in distresse. 

And layd her underneath a bush to slcepe, 

Cover'd with cold, and wrapt in wretchednesse ; 

Whiles he himselfe all night did nought but wccpe, 

And wary watch about her for her safegard keepe. 



684 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

The morrow next, so soone as ioyous day 

Pid shew itselfe in sunny beames bedight, 

Serena full of dolorous dismay, 

Twixt darkenesse dread and hope of living light, 

Upreard her head to see that cheareful sight. 

Then Calepine, however inly wroth, 

And greedy to avenge that vile despight, 

Yet for the feeble ladies sake, full loth 

To make their lenger stay, forth on his iourney go'tli. 

He go'th on foote all armed by her side, 
Upstaying still herselfe uppon her steede, 
Being unliable else alone to ride ; 
So sore her sides, so much her wounds did bleede : 
Till that at length, in his extreamest neede. 
He chaunst far off an armed knighL to spy 
Pursuing him apace with greedy speede ; 
"Whom well he wist to be some enemy. 
That meant to make advantage of his miser3% 

"Wherefore he stayd, till that he nearer drew. 
To weet what issue would thereof betyde : 
Tho, whenas he approched nigh in vew, 
By certaine signes he plainly him descryde 
To be the man that with such scornfull pryde 
Had him abusde and shamed yesterday: 
Therefore, misdoubtiug least he should misguyde 
His former malice to some new assay. 
He cast to keepe himselfe so safely as he may. 

By this the other came in place likewise, 

And couching close his speare and all his powre. 

As bent to some malicious enterprise. 

He bad him stand t' abide the bitter stoure 

Of his sore vengeaunce; or to make avoure 

Of the lewd words and deedes which he had doao 

With that ran at him, as he would devoure 

His life attonce ; who nought could do but shun 

The perill of his pride, or else be over-run. 

Yet he him still pursew'd from place to place, 

"With full intent him cruelly to kill. 

And like a wilde goate round about did chace 

Flying the fury of his bloudy will: 

But his best succour and refuge was still 

Behind his ladies back ; who to him cryde. 

And called oft with prayers loud and shrill. 

As ever he to lady was affyde. 

To spare her knight, and rest with reason pacifyde. 



THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 685 

Bat lie tlie more tliereby enraged was. 

And with more eager felnesse iiim pursew'd ; 

So that at length, after long weary chace. 

Having by chaunce a close advantage vew'd. 

He over-raught him, having long eschew'd 

His violence in vaine ; and with his spere 

Strooke through his shoulder, that the blood essew*d 

In great aboundance, as a well it were, 

That forth out of an. hiU fresh gushing did appere. 

Yet ceast he not for all that cruell wound. 

But chaste him still for all his ladies cry; 

Not satisfyde till on the fatall ground 

He saw his lifepowrd forth despiteously; 

The which was certes in great ieopardy, 

Had not a wondrous chaunce his reskue wrought. 

And saved from his cruell villany, 

Such chaunces oft exceed all humaine thought: 

That in another canto shall to end be brought. 



CANTO IV. 

Calepine by a salvage man 
From Turpiue reskewed is ; 

And, whylest an infant from a beate 
He saves, his love doth misse. 

IjTke as a ship with dreadfull storme long tost, 
Having spent all her mastes and her groundhold^ 
Now farre from harbour likely to be lost. 
At last some fisher-barke doth neare behold, 
That giveth comfort to her courage cold ; 
Such was the state of this most courteous knight 
Being oppressed by that faytour bold. 
That he remayned in most perilous plight, 
And his sad ladie left in pitifull affright : 

Till that, by fortune passing all foresight, 
A salvage man, which in those woods did wonne, 
Drawne with that ladies loud and piteous shright . 
Toward the same incessantly did ronne 
To understand what there was to be donne : 
There he this most discourteous craven found 
As fiercely yet, as when he first begonne, 
Chasing the gentle Calepine around, 
Ne sparing mm the more for all his grievous wouni 
30 



686 THE PAERIE QTTEENE, 

The salvage man, tliat never till this houre 
Did taste of pittie, neither gentlesse knew. 
Seeing his sharpe assault and cruell stoure 
Was much emmoved at his perils vew, 
That even his ruder hart began to rew. 
And feele compassion of his evill plight. 
Against his foe that did him so pursew ; 
From whom he meant to free him, if he might* 
And him avenge of that so villenous despight. 

Yet armes or weapon had he none to fight, 

Ne knew the use of warlike instruments, 

Save such as sudden rage him lent to smite; 

But naked, without needfull vestiments 

To clad his corpse with meete habiliments. 

He cared not for dint of sword nor speere, 

[No more then for the stroke of straw es or bents : 

For from his mothers wombe, which him did beare^ 

He was invulnerable made by magicke leare. 

He stayed not t' advize which way were best 

His foe t' assayle, or how himselfe to gard, 

!But with fierce fury and with force infest 

Upon him ran : who being well prepard 

His first assault full warily did ward. 

And with the push of his sharp-pointed speare 

Full on the breast him strooke, so strong and hard 

That forst him backe recoyle and reele areare ; 

Yet in his bodie made no wound nor bloud appeare. 

With that the wyld man more enraged grew. 

Like to a tygre that hath mist his pray, 

And with mad moode againe upon him flew, 

[Regarding neither speare that mote him slay, 

iNor his fierce steed that mote him much dismay: 

The salvage nation doth all dread despize : 

Tho on his shield he griple hold did lay, ^ 

And held the same so hard, that by no wize 

He could him force to loose, or leave his enterprize. 

long did he^wrest and wring it to and fro, 

And every way did try, but all in vaine ; 

For he would not his greedie grype forgoe, 

But hay Id and puld with all his might and maine, 

That frorn his steed him nigh he drew againe : 

Who having now no use of his long speare 

So nigh at hand, nor force his shield to straine, 

Both speare and shield, as things that needlesse were. 

He quite forsooke, and fled himselfe away for feare. 



THE PAEEIE QTTEEmS. 687 

But after liim tlie wyld man ran apace, 

And him puraewed with importune speed. 

For he was swift as any bucke in chace ; 

And, had he not in his extr earnest need 

Bene helped through fhe swiftnesse of his steed. 

He had him overtaken in his flight, 

Who, ever as he saw him nigh succeed, 

Gan cry aloud with horrible aflright. 

And shrieked out ; a thing uncomely for a knight. 

But, when the salvage saw his labour vaine 

In following of him that fled so fast, 

He wearie woxe, and backe return'd againe 

With speede unto the place, whereas he last 

Had left that couple nere their utmost cast : 

There he that knight full sorely bleeding found 

And eke the ladie fearefully aghast, 

Both for the perill of tlie present stound, 

And also for the sharpnesse of her rankling wound. 

For though she were right glad so rid to bee 
From that vile lozell which her late offended ; 
Yet now no lesse encombrance she did see 
And perill, by this salvage man pretended ; 
Gainst whom she saw no meanes to be defended 
By reason that her kniglit was wounded sore : 
Therefore herselfe she wholy recommended 
To Gods sole grace, whom she did oft implore 
To send her succour, being of all hope forlore. 

But the wyld man, contrarie to her feare. 

Came to her creeping like a fawning hound. 

And by rude tokens made to her appeare 

His deepe compassion of her dolefull stound, 

Kissing his hands, and crouching to the ground; 

For other language had he none nor speacli. 

But a soft murmure and confused sound 

Of senselesse words (which nature did him teach 

T' expresse his passions) which his reason did empeach : 

And comming likewise to the wounded knigh* 

When he beheld the streames of purple blood 

Yet flowing fresh, as moved with the sight. 

He made great mone after his salvage mood; 

And, running streight into the thickest wood, 

A certaine herbe from thence unto him brought, 

Whose vertue he by use well understood ; 

The iuyce whereof into his wound he wrought. 

And stopt the bleeding straight, ere he it staunched thoughfe. 



688 THE PAEETE QUEENE. 

Then taking up that recreants shield and speare, 

"Which earst he left, he signes unto them made 

With him to wend unto his wonning neare ; 

To which he easily did them perswade. 

[Farre in the forrest, by a hollow glade 

Covered with mossie shrubs, which spredding brode 

Did underneath them make a gloomy shade, 

Where foot of living creature never trode, [abode, 

JSe scarse wyld beasts durst come, there was this wighta 

Thither he brought these unacquainted guests ; 
To whom faire semblance, as he could, lie shewed 
[By signes, by lookes, and all his other gests : 
Eut the bare ground with hoarie mosse bestrowed 
Must be their bed ; their pillow was unsowed ; 
And the frutes of the forrest was their feast : 
"For their bad stuard neither plough'd nor sowed, 
Ne fed on flesh, ne ever of wyld beast 
Did taste the bloud, obaying natures first beheast. 

Yet, howsoever base and meane it were. 
They tooke it well, and thanked God for all, 
Which had them freed from that deadly feare, 
And sav'd from being to that caytive thrall. 
Here they of force (as fortune now did fall) 
Compelled were themselves awhile to rest. 
Glad of that easement, though it were but small ; 
That, having there their wounds awhile redrest, 
They mote the abler be to passe unto the rest. 

During which time that wyld man did apply 

His best endevour and his daily paine 

In seeking all the woods both farre and nye 

For herbes to dresse their wounds ; still seeming faine 

W^hen ought he did, that did their ly king gaine. 

So as ere long he had that knightes wound 

Hecured well, and made him whole againe : 

But that same ladies hurts no herbe he found 

Which could redress e, for it was inwardly unsound. 

Now whenas Calepine was woxen strong, 

Upon a day he cast abrode to wend. 

To take the ayre and heare the thrushes song, 

XJnarm'd, as fearing neither foe nor frend. 

And without sword his person to defend ; 

There him befell, unlooked for before, 

An hard adventure with unhappie end, 

A cruell beare, the which an infant bore, 

Betwixt Lis bloodie iawes, besprinckled all with gore. 



THE FA.EEIE QtTEENE. 089 

The litle babe did loudly scrike and squall, 
And all the woods with piteous plaints did fill. 
As if his cry did meane for to helpe to call 
To Calepine, whose eares those shrieches shrill, 
Percing his hart, with pities point did thrill ; 
That after him he ran with zealous haste 
To rescue th* infant, ere he did him kill : 
Whom though he saw now somewhat overpast. 
Yet by the cry he followed, and pursewed fast. 

Well then him chaunst his heavy armes to want, 
Whose burden mote empeach his needful speed. 
And hinder him from libertie to pant : 
For having long time, as his deadly weed. 
Them wont to weare, and wend on foot for need, ♦ 
"Now wanting them he felt himselfe so light. 
That like an hauke, which feeling herselfe freed 
From bels and iessies which did let her flight, 
Him seem'd his feet did fly and in their speed delight. 

So well he sped him, that the wearie beare 
Ere long he overtooke and forst to stay; 
And, without weapon him assayling neare, 
Compeld him soone the spoyle adowne to lay. 
Wherewith the beast enrag'd to loose his pray 
Upon him turned, and, with greedie force 
And furie, to be crossed in his way. 
Gaping full wyde, did thinke without remorse 
To be aveng'd on him, and to devoure his corse. 

But the bold knight no whit thereat dismayd, 

But catching up in hand a ragged stone 

Which lay thereby (so fortune him did ayde) 

Upon him ran, and thrust it all attone 

Into his gaping throte, that made him grone 

And gaspe for breath, that he nigh choked was, 

Being unable to digest that bone ; 

Ne could it upward come, nor downward passe, 

Ne could he brooke the coldnesse of the stony masse. 

Whom whenas he thus combred did behold, 

Stryving in vaine that nigh his bowels brast, 

He with him closd, and, laying mightie hold 

Upon his throte, did gripe his gorge so fast. 

That wanting breath him downe to ground he cast ; 

And, then oppressing him with urgent paine, 

Ere long enforst to breath his utmost blast, 

Gnashing his cruell teeth at him in vaine, [straino. 

And threatning hia sharpe clawes, now wanting powre to 



^0 THE FAEEIE QXTEENE. 

Then tooke he up betwixt liis armes twain© 

The little babe, sweet relickes of his pray; 

Whom pitying to heare so sore complaine, 

From his soft eyes the teares he wypt away. 

And from his face the filth that did it ray ; 

And every little limbe he searcht around, 

And every part that under sweath-bands lay. 

Least that the beasts sharpe teeth had any wound 

Made in his tender flesh ; but whole them all be found* 

So, having all his bands againe uptyde. 
He with him thought backe to returne againe 5 
33ut when he lookt about on every syde, 
To weete which way were best to entertaine 
To bring him to the place where he would faine. 
He could no path nor tract of foot descry, 
Ne by inquirie learne, nor ghesse by ayme ; 
For nought but woods and forrests farre and nye 
That all about did close the compasse of his ey 

Much was he then encombred, ne could tell 
"Which way to take :^ now west he went awhile. 
Then north, then neither, but as fortune fell: 
So up and downe he wandred many a mile 
With wearie travell and imcertaine toile, 
Yet nought the nearer to his iourneys end j 
And evermore his lovely little spoile 
Crying for food did greatly him offend : 
So all that day, in wandring, vainely he did spend. 

At last, about the setting of the sunne, 

Himselfe out of the forest he 4id wynd, 

A.nd by good fortune the plaine champion wonnes 

Where, looking all about where he mote fynd 

Some place of succour to content his mynd, 

At length he heard under the forrests syde 

A voice, that seemed of some womankynd. 

Which to herselfe lamenting loudly cryde, 

And oft complayn'd of fate, and fortune oft defyde. 

To whom approaching, whenas she perceived 
A stranger wight in place, her plaint she stayd. 
As if she doubted to have bene deceived, 
Or loth to let her sorrowes be bewrayd : 
Whom whenas Calepine saw so dismay d, 
He to her drew, and, with faire blandishment 
Her chearing up, thus gently to her said: 
"What be you, wofull dame, which thus lament, 
And for what cause, declare 5 so mote ye not repent. 



THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 691 

To whom she thus ; " What need me, sir, to tell 

That which yourself have earst ared so right? 

A wofull dame ye have me termed well ; 

So much more wofull, as my wofull plight 

Cannot redressed be by living wight!" 

" Nathlesse," quoth he, " if ueed doe not you bynd, 

Doe it disclose, to ease your grieved spright : 

Oftimes it haps that sorrowes of the mynd 

Find remedie unsought, which seeking cannot fynd/* 

Then thus began the lamentable dame ; 

" Sith then ye needs will know the griefe I hoord, 

I am th' unfortunate Matdde by name. 

The wife of bold Sir Bruin, who is lord 

Of all this land, late conquer'd by his sword 

From a great gyant, called Cormoraunt, 

Whom he did overthrow by yonder foord; 

And in three battailes did so deadly daunt. 

That he dare not returne for all his daily vaunt. 

" So is my lord now seiz'd of all the land. 

As in his fee, with peaceable estate. 

And quietly doth hold it in his hand, 

Ne any dares with him for it debate : 

But to these happie fortunes cruell fate 

Hath ioyn*d one evill, which doth overthrow 

All this our ioyes, and all our blisse abate ; 

And like in time to further ill to grow, ' 

And all this land with endlesse losse to over-flow. 

" For th* heavens, envying our prosperitie. 
Have not vouchsaft to graunt unto us twaine 
The gladfull blessing of posteritie. 
Which we might see after ourselves remaine 
In th' heritage of our unhappie paine : 
So that for want of heires it to defend. 
All is in time like to returne againe 
To that foule feend, who dayly doth attend 
To leape into the same after our lives end. 

" But most my lord is grieved herewithall, 

And makes exceeding mone, when he does thinko 

That all this land unto his foe shall fall, 

For which he long in vaine did sweat and swinke, 

That now the same he greatly doth forthinke. 

Yet was it sayd, there should to him a sonne 

Be gotten^ not begotten ; which should drinJce 

And dry up all the water which doth ronne 

In the next hrooket by whom that feend should befordonrte. 



692 THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 

" Well hop't lie then, when this was propheside. 

That from his sides some noble chyld should rize, 

The which through fame should farre be magnifide. 

And this proud gyant should with brave emprize 

Quite overthrow, who now ginnes to despize 

The good Sir Bruin growing farre in years, ^ 

Who thinkes from me his sorrow all doth rize, 

Lo ! this my cause of griefe to you appeares ; [teares.** 

Tor which I thus doe mourne, and poure forth ceaselcsse 

Which when he heard, he inly touched was 
With tender ruth for her unworthy griefe ; 
And, when he had devized of her case, 
He gan in mind conceive a fit reliefe 
For all her paine, if please her make the priefes 
And, having cheared her, thus said ; " Faire Dame, 
In evils counsell is the comfort chiefe ; 
Which though I be not wise enough to frame, 
Yet, as I well it meane, vouchsafe it without blame. 

'* If that the cause of this your languishment 
Be lacke of children to supply your place, 
Lo ! how good fortune doth to you present 
This litle babe, of sweete and lovely face. 
And spotlesse spirit in which ye may enchaco 
Whatever formes ye list thereto apply. 
Being now soft and fit them to embrace 5 
Whether ye list him traine in chevalry, ^ 

Or noursle up in lore of learn'd philosophyo 

" And, certes, it hath oftentimes bene scene, 

That of the like, whose linage was unknowne. 

More brave and noble knights have raysed beene 

(As their victorious deedes have often showen. 

Being with fame through many nations blowen,) 

Then those which have bene dandled in the lap. 

Therefore some thought that those brave imps were sowen 

Here by the gods, and fed with heavenly sap. 

That made them grow so high t* all honorable hap." 

The ladie, hearkning to his sensefull speach, 
Found nothing that he said unmeet nor geason, 
Having oft scene it tryde as he did teach: 
Therefore inclyning to his goodly reason, 
Agreeing well both with the place and season. 
She gladly did of that same babe accept, 
As of her owne hy liverey and seisin ; 
And, having over it a little wept, 
She bore it thence, and ever as her owne it kept. 



THE FAERIE QXTEENE. 693 

E-ifflit glad was Calepine to be so rid 

Of liis young charge whereof lie skilled nought; 

Ne she lesse glad ; for she so wisely did, 

And with her husband under hand so wrought. 

That when that infant unto him she brought. 

She made him think it surely was his owne ; 

And it in goodly thewes so well upbrought, 

That it became a famous knight well knowne, 

And did right noble deedes ; the which elswhere are showne. 

But Calepine, now being leffc alone 

Under the greenewoods side in sorie plight, 

Withouten armes or steede to ride upon, 

Or house to hide his head from heavens spightj 

Albe that dame, by all the meanes she mf^ht. 

Him oft desired home with her to wend. 

And olTred him, his court esie to requite 

Both horse and armes and whatso else to lend. 

Yet he them all refusd, though thankt her as a frend. 

And, for exceeding griefe which inly grew, 
That he his love so lucklesse now had lost, • 
On the cold ground maugre himselfe he threw 
For fell despight, to be so sorely crost ; 
And there all night himselfe in anguish tost. 
Vowing that never he in bed againe 
His limbes would rest, ne lig in ease embost. 
Till that his ladies sight he mote attaine. 
Or understand that she in safetie did remaine. 



CANTO Y. 

The salvage serves Serena well. 
Till she Prince Artliure fynd ; 

"Who her, together with his squyrCt 
With th' Hermit leaves behynd, 

O wiTAT an easie thing is to descry 

The gentle bloud, however it be wrapt 

In sad misfortunes foule deformity 

And wretched sorrowes, which have often hapti 

For howsoever it may grow mis-shapt. 

Like this wyld man being undisciplynd, 

That to all vertue it may sceme unapt ; 

Yet will it shew some sparkes of gentle mynd, 

And at the last breake forth in his owne proper kyni 



694 THE FAEEIE QtJEENE. 

That plain ely may in tliis wyld man be red, 

Who, though he were still in this desert wood, 

Mongst salvage beasts, both rudely borne and bred, 

Ne ever saw faire guize, ne learned good, 

Yet shewd some token of his gentle blood 

By gentle usage of that wretched dame : 

For certes he was borne of noble blood, 

However by hard hap he hether came ; 

As ye may know, when time shall be to tell the same. 

Who, whenas now long time he lacked had 

The good Sir Calepine, that farre was strayd 

Did wexe exceeding sorrowfuil and sad. 

As he of some misfortune were afrayd ; 

And, leaving ther^ this ladie all dismay d, 

Went forth streightway into the forrest wyde 

To seeke if he perchance asleep were layd, 

Or whatso else were unto him betyde : 

He sought him farre and neare, yet him no where he spyde; 

Tho, backe returning to that sorie dame. 

He shewed semblant of exceedmg mone 

By speaking signes, as he them best could frame, 

Now wringing both his wretched hands in one, 

Now beating his hard head upon a stone. 

That ruth it was to see him so lament : 

By which she well perceiving what was done, 

Gan teare her hayre, and all her garments rent. 

And beat her breast, and piteously herselfe torment. 

Upon the ground herselfe she fiercely threw, 
[Regardlesse of her wounds yet bleeding rife. 
That with their bloud did all the flore imbrew, 
As if her breast new launcht with murdrous knife 
Would streight dislodge the wretched wearie hfe: 
There she long groveling and deepe groning lay, 
As if her vitall powers were at strife 
With stronger death, and feared their decay: 
Such were this ladies pangs and dolorous assay, 

"WTiom when the salvage saw so sore distrest. 

He reared her up from the bloudie ground, 

And sought, by all the meanes that he could best, 

Her to recure out of that stony s wound, 

And staunch the bleeding of her dreary wound: 

Yet nould she be recomforted for nought, 

Kor cease her sorrow and impatient stound, 

But day and night did vexe her c.^refull thought. 

And ever more and more her owne affliction wrougk 



THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 605 

At length, wlienas no hope of his retourne 

She saw now left, she cast to leave the place, 

And wend abrode, though feeble and forlorne. 

To seeke some comfort in that sorie case: 

His steede, now strong through rest so long a spacd 

Well as she could she got, and did bedight; 

And being thereon mounted forth did pace 

Withouten guide her to conduct aright, 

Or guard her to defend from bold oppressors might. 

Whom when her host saw readie to depart. 
He would not suffer her alone to fare, 
Bat gan himselfe addresse to take her part. 
Those warlike armes, which Calepine whyleara 
Had left behind, he gan eftsoones prepare. 
And put them all about himself unfit. 
His shield, his helmet, and his curats bare. 
But without sword upon his thigh to sit; 
Sir Calepine himselfe away had hidden it. 

So forth they traveld an uneven payre, 
That mote to all men seemo an uncouth sight ; 
A salvage man matcht with a ladie fayre 
That rather seem*d the conquest of his might 
Gotten by spoyle then purchaced aright : 
But he did her attend most carefully, 
And faithfully did serve both day and night 
Withouten thought of shame or villeny, 
"Ne ever shewed signe of foule disloyalty. 

Upon a day, as on their way they went. 

It chaunst some furniture about her steed 

To be disordred by some accident ; 

Which to redresse she did th' assistance need 

Of this her groome; which he by signes did reede; 

And streight his combrous armes aside did lay 

Upon the ground, withouten doubt or dreed; 

And, in his homely wize, began to assay^ 

T* amend what was amisse, and put in right aray. 

Bout which whilest he was busied thus hard, 
Lo ! where a knight, together with his squire. 
All arm'd to point came ryding thetherward ; 
Which seemed, by their portance and attire, 
To be two errant knights, that did inquire 
After adventures, where they mote them get : 
Those were to weet (if that ye it require) 
Prince Arthur and young Timias, which met 
By straunge occasion, that here needs forth be eeU 



696 THE FAEETE QUEENE* 

After that Timias liad againe recured 
The favour of Belphebe, as ye heard. 
And of her pn'ace did stand againe assured. 
To happie bliss e he was full high uprear'd, 
Nether of envy nor of chaunge afeard : 
Though many foes did him maligne therefore, 
And with uniust detraction him did beard; 
Yet he himselfe so well and wisely bore. 
That in her soveraine lyking he dwelt evermore. 

But, of them all which did his mine seeke. 

Three mightie enemies did him most despight. 

Three mightie ones, and cruell minded eeke. 

That liim not onely sought by open might 

To overthrow, but to supplant by slight : 

The first of them by name was cald Despetto, 

Exceeding all the rest in powre and hight ; 

The second, not so strong but wise, Decetto ; 

The third, nor strong nor wise but spightfullest, Defetto. 

Oftimes their sundry powres they did employ. 

And several deceipts, but all in vaine ; 

Tor neither they by force could him destroy, 

Ke yet entrap in treasons sub till traine : 

Therefore, conspiring all together plaine, 

They did their counsels now in one compound 

*V\rhere singled forces faile, conioynd may gaine. 

The blatant beast the fittest meanes they found 

To worke his utter shame, and throughly him confound. 

Upon a day, as they the time did waite 

When he did raunge the wood for salvage game, 

They sent that blatant beast to be a baite 

To draw him from his deare beloved dame 

Unwares into the daunger of defame : 

!For well they wist that squire to be so bold. 

That no one beast in forrest wylde or tame 

Met him in chase, but he it challenge would, 

And plucke the pray oftimes out of their greedy hould. 

The hardy boy, as they devised had. 

Seeing the ugly monster passing by, 

Upon him set, of perill nought adrad, 

]N"e skilfull of the uncouth ieopardy ; 

And charged him so fierce and furiously. 

That, his great force unable to endure, 

He forced was to turne from him and fly : 

Yet, ere he fled, he with his tooth impure 

Him heedlesse bit, the whiles he was thereof flecm*e. 



THE FAEEIB QTTEENB. 697 

Securely lie did after him purse w, 

Tliiaking by speed to overtake his flight 5 

Who through thicko woods and brakes and briers him drew. 

To weary him the more and waste his spifjht. 

So that he now had almost spent his spright ; 

Till that at length unto a woody glade 

He came, whose covert stopt his further sight; 

There his three foes shrowded in guile full shade 

Out of their ambush broke, and gan him to invade/ 

Sharpely they all attonce did him assaile, 
Barning with inward rancour and despight,^ 
And heaped strokes did round about him hailo 
"With so huge force, that seemed nothing might 
Beare off their blowes from piercing thorough quite: 
Yet he them all so warily did ward. 
That none of them in his soft flesh did bite ; 
And all the while his backe for best safegard 
He lent against a tree, that backeward onset bardt 

Like a wylde bull, that, being at a bay. 

Is bayted of a mastiffe and a hound 

And a curre-dog, that doe him sharp e assay 

On every side, and beat about him round ; 

But most that curre, barking with bitter sownd. 

And creeping still behinde, doth him incomber, 

That in his chauffe he digs the trampled ground, 

And threats his horns, and bellowes like the thonders 

So did that squire his foes disperse and drive asonder. 

Him well behoved so ; for his three foes 
Sought to encompasse him on every side, 
And dangerously did round about enclose : 
But, most of all, Defetto him annoyde, 
Creeping behinde him still to have destroydo ; 
So did Decetto eke him circumvent ; 
But stout Despetto in his greater pryde 
Did front him, face to face against him bent: 
Yet he them all withstood, and often made relent;! 

Till that at length nigh tyrd with former chace. 
And weary now with carefall keeping ward, 
He gan to slirinke and somewhat to give place, 
Pull like ere long to have escaped hard ; 
Whcnas un wares he in the forrest heard 
A trampling steede, that with his neighing fast 
Did warne nis rider be uppon his gard ; 
With noise whereof the squire, now nigh aghast 
Eevived was, aad sad dispairo away did cast. 



698 THE PAEEIE QUEENE. 

Eftsoones he spide a knight approching nye 

Who, seeiog one in so great daunger set 

Mongst many foes, himself did faster hyo 

To reskue him, and his weake part abet, 

For pitty so to see liim overset : 

Whom soone as his three enemies did vew. 

They fled, and fast into the wood did get : 

Him booted not to thinke them to pursew; 

Tiie covert was so thicke, that did no passage shew. 

Then, turning to that swaine, him well he knew 

To be his Timias, his owne true squire ; 

Whereof exceeding glad, he to him drew, 

And, him embracing twixt his armes entire. 

Him thus bespake; "My liefe, my lifes desire. 

Why have ye me alone thus long yleft ? 

Tell me what world's despight, or heavens yre, 

Hath you thus long away from me bereft? [weft?** 

Where have ye all tliis while bm wandring, where bene 

With that he sighed deepe for inward tyne : 
To whom the squire nought aunswercd againe. 
But, shedding few soft teares from tender eyne. 
His dear affect with silence did restrain e. 
And shut up all his plaint in privy paine. 
There they awhile some gracious speeches spent. 
As to them seem'd fit time to entertaine : 
After all which up to their steedes they went, 
Ajid forth together rode, a comely couplement. 

So now they be arrived both in sight ^ 

Of this wyld man, whom they full busie found 

Abmit the sad Serena things to dight. 

With those brave armours lying on the ground, 

That seem'd the spoile of some right well renownd. 

Which when that squire beheld, he to them stept 

Thinking to take them from that hylding hound ; 

But he it seeing lightly to him lept. 

And sternely with strong hand it from his handling kept. 

Gnashing his grinded teeth with griesly looke. 

And sparkling fire out of his furious eyne. 

Him with his fist unwares on th' head he strooke. 

That made him downe unto the earth encline ; 

Whence soone upstarting, much he gan repine. 

And laying hand uppon his wrathful! blade 

Thought therewithall forthwith him to have slaine; 

Who it perceiving hand upon him layd. 

And greedily him, griping his avengement stayd. 



THE FAEEIE QtTEENB. 699 

Witli that aloude tlie faire Serena cryde 

Unto the knight, them to dispart m twame : 

Who to them steppmg did them soone divide. 

And did from further violence restraiue, 

Albe the wy\d man hardly would refraine. 

Then gan the prince of her for to demand 

What and from vrhence she was ; and by what traine 

She fell into that salvage villaines hand ; 

And whether free with him she now were, or in band. 

To whom she thus ; " I am, as now ye see, 

The wretchedst dame that lives this day on ground. 

Who both in miude (the which most grieveth me) 

And body have receiv'd a mortall wound, 

That hath me driven to this drery stound, 

I was erewhile the love of Calepine; 

Who whether he alive be to be found. 

Or by some deadly chaunce be done to pine. 

Since I him lately lost, uneath is to define. 

"In salvage forrest I him lost of late. 
Where I had surely long ere this bene dead, 
Or else remained in most wretched state. 
Had not this wylde man in that wofull stead 
Kept and dehvered me from deadly dread. 
In such a salvage wight, of brutish kynd, 
Amongst wilde beastes in desert forrests bred. 
It is most straunge and wonderful to fynd 
So milde humanity and perfect gentle mynd. 

" Let me therefore this favour for him finde. 

That ye will not your wrath upon him wreake, 

Sith he cannot expresse his simple minde, 

Ne yours conceive, ne but by tokens speake : 

Small praise to prove your powre on wight so wcakc T* 

With such faire words she did their heate asswage, 

And the strong course of their displeasure breakc. 

That they to pitty turnd their former rage. 

And each sought to supply the office of her page. 

So, having all things well about her dight. 

She on her way cast forward to proceede; 

And they her forth conducted, where they might 

Finde harbour fit to comfort her great neede : 

For now her wounds corruption gan to breed : 

And eke this squire, who likewise wounded was 

Of that same monster late, for lacke of heed 

Now gan to faint, and further could not pas 

Through feeblenesse, which all his limbes oppressed haa. 



700 THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 

So forth they rode together all in troupe 

To seeke some place, the which mote yeeld some ease 

To these sicke twaine that now began to droupe : 

And all the way the prince sought to appease 

The bitter anguish of their sharpe disease 

By all the courteous meanes he could invent 5 

Somewhile with merry purpose, fit to please, 

And otherwhile with good encouragement, 

To make them to endure the pains did them torment. 

Mongst which, Serena did to him relate 

The foule discourt'sies and unknightly parts. 

Which Turp-ne had unto her shewed late 

Without compassion of her cruell smarts : 

Although Blandina did with all her arts 

Him otherwise perswade all that she might,. 

Yet he of malice, without her desarts, 

Not onely her excluded late at night, 

But also trayterously did wound her weary knight. 

Wherewith the prince sore moved there avoud 

That, soone as he returned backe againe, 

He would avenge th' abuses of that proud 

And shameful knight, of whom she did complaine. 

This wize did they each other entertaine 

To passe the tedious travell of the way; 

Till towards night they came unto a plain e. 

By which a little hermitage there lay, 

Par from all neighbourhood, the which annoy it may. 

And nigh thereto a little chappel stoode. 

Which being all with yvy overspred 

Peckt all the roofe, and, shadowing the roode, 

Seem'd like a grove faire braunched over hed : 

Therein the hermite, which his life here led 

In streight observaunce of religious' vow. 

Was wont his howres and holy things to bed. 

And therein he likewise was praying now, 

Whenas these knights arrived, they wist not where nor how. 

They stayd not there, but streightway in did pas 
Whom when the hermite present saw in place, 
!From his devotion streight he troubled was ; 
Which breaking off he toward them did pace 
With stayed steps and grave beseeming irrace: 
For well it seem'd that whilome he had beene 
Some goodly person, and of gentle race, 
That could his good to all ; and well did weene 
How each to entertaine with curt'sie well beseene: 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 701 

And sootlily it was say d by common fame. 

So long as age enabled liim thereto. 

That he had bene a man of mickle name, 

Renowmed much in armies and derring doe : 

But being aged now, and weary to 

Of warres delight and worlds contentious toyle. 

The name of knighthood he did disavow; 

And, hanging up his armes and warlike spoyle, 

From all this worlds incombrance did himselfe assoyle. 

He thence them led into his hermitage. 
Letting their steedes to graze upon the greene; 
Small was his house, and, like a Httle cage, 
For his owne turne ; yet inly neate and clene, 
Deckt with greene bou^hes and flowers gay beseene: 
Therein he them full fa ire did entertaine 
Kot with such forged showes, as fitter beene 
For courting fooles that curtesies would faine ^ 
But with entire affection and appearaunce plaine. 

Yet was their fare but homely, such as hee 

Pid use his feeble body to sustaine ; 

The which full gladly they did take in glee, 

Such as it was, ne did of want complaine. 

But, being well suffiz'd, them rested faine: 

But fair Serene all night could take no rest, 

"Ne yet that gentle squire, for grievous paine 

Of their late woundes, the which the blatant beasb [creast. 

Had given them, whose griefe through sufiraunce sore in- 

So all that night they past in great disease, 

Till that the morning, bringing earely light 

To guide mens labours, brought them also ease. 

And some asswagement of their painfull plight. 

Then up they rose, and gan themselves to dight 

Unto their iourney ; but that squire and dame 

So faint and feeble were, that they ne might 

Endure to travell, nor one foote to frame : [were lame. 

Their hearts were sicke; their sides were sore; their feete 

Therefore the prince, whom great affaires in mynd 
Would not permit to make there lenger stay. 
Was forced there to leave them both behynd 
In that good hermits charge, \^'hom he did pray 
To tend them well : So forth he went his way. 
And with him eke the salvage (that whyleare 
Seeing his royal usage and array 
Was greatly growne in love of that brave pere) 
Would needes depart ; as shall declared be elsewhere. 



yog THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 



CANTO VI. 

The hermite heales botli squire and dame 

Of tlieir sore maladies : 
He Turpine doth defeate and shame 

For his late villanies. 

ITo wound, wMch warlike hand of enemy^ 

Inflicts with dint of sword, so sore doth light 

As doth the poysnous sting, which infamy 

Infixeth in the name of notle wight : 

For, by no art nor any leaches might. 

It ever can recured be againe ; 

Ne all the skill, which that immortall spright 

Of Podalyrius did in it retaine. 

Can remedy such hurts ; such hurts are hellish paine. 

Such were the wounds the which that blatant beast 

Made in the bodies of that squire and dame ; 

And, being such, were now much more increast 

For want of taking heede unto the same. 

That now corrupt and curelesse they became : 

Howbe that carefull hermite did his best. 

With many kindes of medicines meete,^ to tame 

The poysnous humour which did most infest 

Their ranckling wounds, and every day them duely drest. 

For he right well in leaches craft was scene ; 

And, through the long experience of his dayes 

Which had in many fortunes tossed beene 

And past through many perillous assaj^es, 

He knew the diverse went of mortall wayes. 

And in the mindes of men Lad great insight i 

Which with sage counsell, when they went astray, 

He could enforme, and them reduce aright ; 

And all the passions heale, which wound the weaker sprighk. 

For whylome he had bene a doughty knight. 

As any one that Hved in his daies. 

And proved oft in many perillous fight. 

In which he grace and glory wonne alwaies. 

And in all battels bore away the baies : 

But being now attacht ^ ith timely age. 

And weary of this worlds unquiet waies. 

He tooke himselfe unto this hermitage, 

In which he liv'd alone, like carelesse bird in cage. 



THE PAERIE QUEENB, 703 

One day, as lie was searchiag of their wounds, 
He found that they had festred privily; 
Aud, rancklin,!? inward with unruly s'tounds. 
The inner parts now gan to putrify, 
That quite they seem'd past helpe of surgery j 
And rather needed to be disciplinde 
With holesome reede of sad sobriety, 
To rule the stubborne rage of passion bllnde:^ 
^ Give salve to every sore, hut counsell to the minde* 

So, taking them apart into his cell. 

He to that point fit speaches gan to frame, 

As he the art of words knew wondrous well. 

And eke could doe as well as say the same; 

And thus he to them sayd; " Faire daughter dame. 

And you, faire sonne, which here thus long now lie 

In piteous languor since ye hither came; 

In vaine of me ye hope for rcmedie. 

And I likewise in vaine doe salves to you appUe: 

" For in yourselfe your onely helpe doth lie 

To heale yourselves, and must proceed alone 

From your owne will to cure your maladie. 

Who can him cure that will be cur'd of none? 

If therefore health ye seeke, observe this one : 

First learne your outward senses to refraine 

From things that stirre up fraile affection; 

Your eies, your eares, your tongue, your talk restraine 

From that they most affect, and in due termes containe. 

" For from those outward sences, ill affected. 
The seede of all this evill first doth spring. 
Which at the first, before it had infected. 
Mote easie be supprest with little thing: 
Bat, being growen strong, it forth doth bring 
Sorrow, and- anguish, and impatient paine. 
In th' inner parts; and lastly, scattering 
Contagious poyson close through every vaine, 
It never* rests till it have wrought his finall bane. 

" For that beastes teeth, which wounded you toforo. 

Are so exceeding venemous and keene, . 

Made all of rusty yron ranckling sore, 

That, where they bite, it bootcth not to weene 

With salve, or antidote, or other mene, 

It ever to amend : ne marvaile ought ; 

For that same beast was bred of hellish streno. 

And long in darksome stygian den upbroughfc, 

Begot of foule Echidna, as in bookes is taught. 



704 THE TAERIE QtTEENB. 

" Ecliidna is a monster direful! dred, 
Whom gods doe hate, and heavens abhor to see; 
So hideous is her shape, so hup:e her hed, 
That even the hellish fiends affrighted bee 
At sight thereof, and from her presence flee : 
Yet did her face and former parts professe 
A faire young may den, full of comely glee ; 
IBut all her hinder parts did plaine expresse 
A monstrous dragon, full of fearfull ughnesse. 

" To her the gods, for her so dreadfull face, 

In fearefull d'arknesse, furthest from the skie 

And from the earth, appointed have her place 

Mongst rocks and caves, where she enrold doth lie 

In hideous horrour and obscurity. 

Wasting the strength of her immortall age : 

There did Typhaon with her company; 

Cruell Typhaon, whose tempestuous rage 

Makes ih! heavens tremble oft, and him with vowes asswago, 

" Of that commixtion they did then beget 

This hellish dog, that hight the blatant beast ; 

A wicked monster, that his tongue doth whet 

Gainst all, both good and bad, both rnost and least. 

And pours his poysnous gall forth to infest 

The noblest wights with notable defame ; 

ISTe ever knight that bore so lofty creast, 

Ne ever lady of so honest name, 

'But he them spotted with reproch, or secrete shame. 

" In vaine therefore it were with medicine 

To goe about to salve such kind of sore. 

That rather needes wise read and discipline 

Then outward salves that may augment it more.** 

** Aye me !" sayd then Serena, sighing sore, 

" What hope of helpe doth then for ns remain^. 

If that no salves may us to health restore I" 

** But sith we need good counsell," sayd the swaine,^ 

" Aread, good sire, some counsell that may us sustaine.*' 

" The best," sayd he, " that I can you advize. 

Is, to avoide th' occasion of the ill : 

For when the cause, whence evill doth arize, 

Removed is, th' eftect surceaseth still. 

Abstaine from pleasure, and restraine your will; 

Subdue desire, and bridle loose delight ; 

Use scanted diet, and forbeare your fill ; 

Shun secresie, and talke in open sight : 

So shall you soone repaire your present evill plight.'* 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB, 705 

Tlins Laving sayd, Ms sickely patients 

Did gladly hearken to his grave beheast, 

And kept so well his wise commaundernents, 

That in short space their malady was ceast, 

And eke the biting of that harmefuU beast 

Was throughly heal'd. Tho when they did perceave 

Their wounds recur'd, and forces reincreast, 

Of that good hermite both they tooke their leave, 

And went both on their way, ne ech would other leave ; 

But each the other vow'd t' accompany: 

The lady, for that she was much in dred, 

Now left alone in great extremity; ^ . 

The squire, for that he courteous was indeed. 

Would not her leave alone in her great need. 

So both together traveld, till they met 

With a faire mayden clad in mourning weed. 

Upon a mangy iade unmeetely set, 

And a lewd foole her leading thorough dry and wet. 

But by what meanes that shame to her befell, 
And how thereof herselfe she did acquite, 
I must awhile forbeare to you to tell ; 
Till that, as comes by course, I doe recite 
What fortune to the Briton prince did lite. 
Pursuing that proud knight, the which whileare 
Wrought to Sir Calepine so foule despight ; 
And eke his lady, though she sickly were. 
So lewdly had abusde, as ye did lately heare. 

The prince, according to former token. 
Which faire Serena to him delivered had, 
Pursu'd him streight ; in mind to bene ywroken 
Of aU the vile demeane and usage bad, 
With which he had those two so ill bestad : 
Ne wight with him on that adventure went, 
But that wylde man ;' whom though he oft forbad, 
Yet for no bidding, nor for being shent, 
Would he restrained be from his attendement. 

Arriving there, as did by chaunce befall. 
He found the gate wyde ope, and in he rode, 
Ne stayd, till that he came into the hall; 
Where soft dismounting, like a weary lode, 
Upon the ground with feeble feete he trode. 
As he unable were for very neede 
To move one foote, but there must make abode ; 
The whylcs the salvage man did take his steede 
And in some stable neare did set him up to feede. 



f06 THE FAEBIE QTTEENE, 

Ere long to Min a homely groome there came. 
That in rude wise him asked what he was, 
That durst so boldly, without let or shame 
Into his lords forbidden hall to passe : 
To whom the prince, him fayning to embase, 
Mjdde answer made, he was an errant knight, 
The which was fall'n into this feeble case 
Through many wounds, which lately he in fight 
[Received had, and prayd to pitty his ill plight. 

!But he, the more outrageous and bold 
Sternely did bid him quickely thence avaunt. 
Or deare aby; for why? his lord of old 
Did hate all errant knights which there did haunt^ 
"Ne lodging would to any of them graimt ; 
And therefore lightly bad him pa eke away, 
iNot sparing him with bitter words to taunt; 
And therewithal! rude hand on him did lay. 
To thrust him out of dore doing his worst assay. 

Which when the salvage comming now in place 

Beheld, eftsoones he all enraged grew, 

And, running streight upon that villaine base. 

Like a fell lion at him fiercely flew. 

And with his teeth and nailes, in present vew. 

Him rudely rent and all to peeces tore ; 

So miserably him all helpelesse slew, 

That with the noise, whilest he did loudly rore, 

The people of the house rose forth in great uprore. 

Who when on ground they saw their fellow slaine. 

And that same knight and salvage standing by. 

Upon them two they fell with might and maine 

And on them layd so huge and horribly. 

As if they would have slaine them presently: 

But the bold prince defended him so well, 

And their assault withstood so mightily, 

That, maugre all their might, he did rep ell 

And beat them back, whilst many underneath him felL 

Yet he them still so sharpely did ;' ursew. 

That few of them he left alive, wMch fled. 

Those evill tidings to their lord to shew: 

Who, heanLj* iiow his people badly sped, 

Came forth in hast ; where whenas with the dead 

He saw the ground all strow'd, and that same knight 

-And salvage with their bloud fresh steeming red, 

He woxe nigh mad with wrath and fell despight, 

And with reproachfull words him thus bespake on Light 



THE FAEEIE QUEENS. 707 

'* Art thoti he, traytor, that with treason vile 

Hast slaine my men in this unmanly maner. 

And now triumphest in the piteous spoile 

Of these poore folk, whose soules with black dishonor 

And foule defame doe decke thy bloudy baner ? 

The meede whereof shall shortly be thy shame. 

And wretched end which still attendeth on her.** 

With that himselfe to battell he did frame ; ^ 

So did his forty yeomen, which there with him came. 

With dreadful! force they all did him assaile. 
And round about with boystrous strokes oppresse. 
That on his shield did rattle like to haile 
In a great tempest ; that in such distresse 
He wist not to which side him to addresse : 
And evermore that craven cowherd knight 
Was at his backe with heartlesse heedinesse, 
Wayting if he unwares him murther might : 
Por cowardize doth stiU in villany deHght. 

Whereof whenas the prince was well aware,* 

He to him turnd with furious intent, 

And him against his powre gan to prepare ; 

Like a fierce bull, that being busie bent 

To fight with many foes about him ment. 

Feeling some curre behinde his heeles to bite, " 

Turnes him about with fell avengement : 

So likewise turnde the prince upon the knight, 

And layd at him amaine with all his will and might. 

Who, when he once his dreadf ill strokes had tasted 

Durst not the furie of his force abyde, 

But turn'd abacke, and to retyre him hasted 

Through the thick prease, there thinking him to hyde : 

But, when the prince had once him plainely eyde. 

He foot by foot him followed alway, 

Ne would him suffer once to shrinke asyde ; 

But, ioyning close, huge lode at him did lay; 

Who flying stiU did ward, and warding fly away. 

But, when his foe he still so eger saw, 

Unto his heeles himselfe he did betake. 

Hoping unto some refuge to withdraw: 

I^e would the prince him ever foot forsake 

Whereso he went, but after him did raake. 

He fled from roome to roome, from place to place, 

Whylest every ioynt for dread of death did quake. 

Still looking after him that did him chase ; 

That made him evermore increase his speedie pace. 



708 THE PAEEIE QUEENS. 

At last he Tip into the chamber came 

"Whereas his love was sittJDg all alone, 

"Waytiner what tjdingsof her foJke became. 

There did the prince him overtake anone 

Crying in vaine to her him to bemone ; 

And with his sword him on the head did smyte. 

That to the ground he fell in senselesse swone : 

Yet, whether thwart or flatly it did lyte, 

The tempred Steele did not into his braynepan byte. 

Which when the ladie saw, with great aflfright 

She starting np began to shrieke aloud ; 

And, with her garment covering him from sight, 

Seem'd under her protection him to shroud; 

And, falling lowly at his feet, her bowd 

Upon her knee, intreating him for grace, 

And often him besought, and prayd, and vowd ; 

That, with the ruth of her so wretched case, 

He stayd his second strooke and did his hand abase. 

Her weed she then withdrawing did him discover; 
Who now come to himselfe yet would not rize. 
But still did lie as dead, and quake, and quiver. 
That even the prince his baseness did despize. 
And eke his dame, him seeing in such guize, 
Gan him recomfort and from ground to reare : 
Who rising up at last in ghastly wize. 
Like troubled ghost, did dreadfully appeare, 
As one that had no life him left through former fear. 

Whom when the prince so deadly saw dismayd. 

He for such basenesse shamefully hirn shent, 

And with sharp e words did bitterly up bray d ; 

*' Vile cowheard dogge, now doe I much repent, 

That ever I this life unto thee lent. 

Whereof thou caytive so unworthie art. 

That both thy love, for lacke of hardiment, 

And eke thyselfe for want of manly hart, 

And eke all knights hast shamed with this knightlesse part. 

"Yet further hast thou heaped shame to shame, 
And crime to crime, by this thy cowheard feare : 
For first it was to thee reprochfull blame, 
T' erect this wicked custome, which I heare 
Gainst errant knights and ladies thou dost reare; 
Whom when thou mayst thou dost of arms despoile, 
Or of their upper garment which they weare : 
Yet doest thou not with manhood, but with guile, 
Maintaine this evil use, thy foes thereby to foile. 



THE PAEBIE QtTEENE. 709 

" And lastly, in appro vance of tliy wrong, 

To skew such faintnesse and foule cowardize 

Is greatest shame ; for oft it falles, that strong 

And valiant knights doe rashly enterprize 

Either for fame, or else for exercize, 

A wrongfull quarrell to maintaine by fight ; 

Yet have through prowesse and their brave emprize 

Gotten great worship in this worldes sight : 

For greater force there needs to maintaine wrong then right, 

" Yet since th;^ life unto this ladie fayr© 
I given have, live in reproch and scorne ! 
Ne ever armes ne ever knighthood dare 
Hence to professe ; for shame is to adorne 
With so brave badges one so basely borne; 
But onely breath, sith that I did forgive l" 
So having from his craven bodie torne 
Those goodly armes, he them away did give, 
And onely suffred him this wretched life to live. 

There whilest he thus was settling things above, 
Atwene that ladie myld and recreant knight, 
To whom his life he graunted for her love. 
He gan bethinke him in what perilous plight 
He had behynd him left that salvage wight 
Amongst so many foes, whom sure he thought 
By this quite slaine in so unequal fight: 
Therefore descending backe in haste he sought 
If yet he were alive, or to destruction brought. 

There he him found environed about - 

With slaughtred bodies, which his hand had slaine; 

And laying yet afresh with courage stout 

Upon the rest that did ahve remaine; 

Whom he likewise right sorely did constraine. 

Like scattred sheepe to seeke for safetie. 

After he gotten had with busie paine 

Some of their weapons which thereby did lie, 

With which he layd about, and made them fast to flie. 

Whom when the prince so felly saw to rage. 
Approaching to him neare, his hand he stayd. 
And sought, by making signes, him to ass wage : 
Who them perceiving, streight to him obayd. 
As to his lord, and downe his weapons layd. 
As if he long had to his beasts bene trayned. 
Thence he him brought away, and up convayd 
Into the chamber, where that dame remayned 
With her unworthy knight, who ill him entertayned, 
31 



710 f HE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

Whom wlien tlie salvage saw from daunger free, 

Sitting beside iii3 ladie there at ease, 

He well remembred that the same was hee. 

Which lately sought his lord for to displease: 

Tho all in rage he on him streight did seaze. 

As if he would in peeces him have rent ; 

And, were not that the prince did him appeaze. 

He had not left one limbe of him unrent : 

But streight he held his hand at his commaundement. 

Thus having all things well in peace ordayned. 

The prince himselfe there all that night did rest ; 

Where him Blandina fayrely entertayned 

With all the courteous glee and goodly feast 

The which for him she could imagine best : 

Por well she knew the wayes to win good will 

Of every wight, that were not too infest ; 

And how to please the minds of good and ill, [skilL 

Through tempering of her words and lookes by wondroui 

Yet were her words and lookes but false and fayned, 

To some hid end to make more easie way, 

Or to allure such fondlings whom she trayned 

Into her trap unto their owne decay : 

Thereto, when needed, she could weepe and pray, 

And when her listed she could fawne and flatter; 

"Now smyling smoothly like to sommers day, 

"Now glooming sadly, so to choke her matter ; 

Yet were her words but wynd, and all her tears but water. 

Whether such grace were given her by kynd. 

As women wont their guilefull wits to guyde ; 

Or learnd the art to please, I doe not fynd : 

This well I wote, that she so well applyde 

Her pleasing tongue, that soon she pacifyde 

The wrathfull prince, and wrought her husbands peace : 

Who nathelesse, not therewith satisfyde, 

His rancorous despight did not releasse, 

Ne secretly from thought of fell revenge surceasse : 

Por all that night, the whyles the prince did rest 

In carelesse couch not weeting what was ment. 

He watcht in close awayt with weapons prest. 

Willing to worke his villenous intent. 

On him, that had so shamefully him shent : 

Yet durst he not for very cowardize 

Effect the same, why lest all the night was spent. 

The morrow next the prince did early rize, 

And passed forth to follow his first enterprize. 



XEB FAEBIE QUEEKB. 711 



CANTO vn. 

Turpine is baffuld ; his two knights 
Doe gaine their treasons meed. 
* Fayre Mirabellaes punishment 

For loves dlsdaine decreed. 

IiiEE as the gentle hart itselfe bewrayes 

In doing gentle deedes with franke delight, . 

E^en^o the baser mind itselfe display es 

In cancred malice and revengefull spight : 

For to maligne, t' enyie, t' use shifting slight. 

Be arguments of a vile donghill mind ; 

Which, what it dare not doe by open might. 

To worke by wicked treason wayes doth find, 

By such discourteous deeds discovering his base kind. 

That well appears in this discourteous knight, 

The coward Turpine, whereof now I treat ; 

Who notwithstanding that in former fight 

He of the prince his life received late, 

Yet in his mind maliiious and ingrate 

He gan devize to be aveng'd anew 

For ail that shame, which kindled inward hates 

Therefore, so soone as he was out of vew, 

Himselfe in hast he arm*d, and did him fast pursew. 

Well did he tract his steps as he did ryde. 

Yet would not neare approch in daungers eye. 

But kept aloofe for dread to be descryde, 

Untill fit time and place he mote espy, ^ 

Where he mote worke him scath and villeny. 

At last he met two knights to him unknowne. 

The which were armed both agreeably. 

And both combynd, whatever chaunce were blowne. 

Betwixt them to divide and each to make his owne. 

To whom false Turpine comming courteously. 

To cloke the mischiefe which he inly ment, 

Gan to complaine of great discourtesie, 

Which a straunge knight, that neare afore him went. 

Had doen to him, and his deare ladie shcnt ; 

Which if they would afford him ayde at need 

For to avenge in time convenient. 

They should accomplish both a knightly deed, 

And for their paines obtaine of him a goodly meed. 



712 THE PAEEIE QTTEENE. 

The knigMs beleev'd that all he sayd was trewj 

And, bein^ fresh and full of youthly spright, 

Were glad to heare of that adventure new. 

In which they mote make triall of their might 

"Which never yet they had approv'd in fight. 

And eke desirous of the offred meed : 

Said then the one of them ; " Where is that wight, ^ 

The which hath doen to thee this wrongfull ded, 

That we may it avenge, and punish him with speed ?^ 

* He rides," said Turpine, "there not farre afore. 
With a wyld man soft footing by his syde ; 
That, if ye list to haste a litle more, 
Ye may him overtake in timely tyde." 
Eftsoones they pricked forth with forward pride; 
And, ere that litle while they ridden had. 
The gentle prince not farre away they spyde, 
Hyding a softly pace with portance sad. 
Devizing of his love more then of daunger drad. 

Then one of them aloud unto him cryde, 

Bidding him turne againe ; " False tray tour knight, 

Foule woman-wronger !" — for he him defyde. 

With that they both at once with equall spight 

Did bend their speares, and both with equall might 

Against him ran ; but th* one did misse his marke. 

And being carried with his force forthright 

Glaunst swiftly by; like to that heavenly sparke, 

Which glyding through the ajTe lights all the heavens darke. 

But th' other, ayming better, did him smite 

Full in the shield with so impetuous powre. 

That all his launce in peeces shivered quite. 

And scattered all about fell on the flowre : 

But the stout prince with much more steddy stowre 

Full on his bever did him strike so sore, 

That the cold steel through piercing did devowre 

His vitall breath, and to the ground him bore. 

Where still he bathed lay in his own bloody gore. 

As when a cast of faulcons make their flight 

At an herneshaw, that lyes aloft on wing. 

The whyles they strike at him with heedlesse might, 

The warie foule his bill doth backward wring ; 

On which the first, whose force her first doth bring, 

Herselfe quite through the bodie doth engore, ^ 

And falleth downe to ground like senselesse thing ; 

But th* other, not so swift as she before, 

Fayles of her souse, and passing by doth hurt no more. 



THE FAERIE QITEENE. 713 

By tMs tlie other, wliicli was passed by, 
Himselfe recovering, was return'd to fight ; 
Where when he saw his fellow lifelesse ly. 
He much was daunted of so dismal sight ; 
Yet, nought abating of his former spight. 
Let drive at him with so malitious mynd. 
As if he would have passed through him quight: 
But the steele-head no stedfast hold could fynd, 
But glauncing by deceived him of that he desynd, 

Not so the prince; for his well-learned speare 

Tooke surer hould, and from his horses backe 

Above a launces length him forth did beare, 

And gainst the cold hard earth so sore him strake. 

That all his bones in peeces nigh he brake, 

Where s cueing him so lie, he left his steed. 

And, to him leaping, vengeance thought to take 

Of him, for all his former follies meed. 

With flaming sword in hand his terror more to breed. 

The fearefuU swayne beholding death so nie 
Cryde out aloud, for mercie, him to save ; 
In lieu whereof he would to him descrie 
Great treason to him meant, his life to reave. 
The prince soone hearkned, and his life forgave. 
Then thus said he : " There is a straunger knight. 
The which, for promise of great meed, us drave 
To this attempt, to wreake his hid despight, 
For that himselfe thereto did want sufficient might." 

The prince much mused at such villenie, 

And sayd : " Now sure ye well have earn*d your meed; 

For th' one is dead, and th' other soone shall die, 

Unlesse to me thou hither bring with speed 

The wretch that h^^'d you to this wicked deed." 

He glad of life, and willing eke to wreake 

The guilt on him which did this mischiefe breed, 

Swore by his sword, that neither day nor weeke 

He would surceasse, but him whereso he were would seekeu 

So up he rose, and forth streightway he went 

Backe to the place where Turpine late he lore; 

Tliere he him found in great astonishment. 

To see him so bedight with bloodie gore 

And eriesly wounds, that him appalled sore. 

Yet thus at length he said ; " How now, sir knight, 

What meaneth this which here I see before ? 

How fortuneth this foule uncomely plight. 

So different from that which earst ye seem'din sight P" 



714 THE FAEEIE QTJEENB. 

** Perdie/* said he, " in evill houre it fell. 
That ever I for meed did undertake 
So hard a ta>ke as hfe for hyre to sell ; 
The which I earst adventur'd for jour sake ; 
Witnesse the wounds, and this wide hloudie lake, 
Which ye may see yet all about me steeme. 
Therefore now yeeld, as ye did promise make, 
My due reward, the which rig] it well I deeme 
I yearned have, that life so dearely did redeeme." 

** [But where then is," quoth he halfe wrothfully, 
** Where is the bootie, which therefore I bought. 
That cursed caytive, my strong enemy. 
That recreant knight, whose hated life I sought ? 
And where is eke \our friend which halfe it ought P" 
*' He lyes," said he, "upon the cold bare ground, 
Sla.vne of that errant knight with whom he fought; 
Whom at rwards myselfe with many a wound 
Did slay againe, as ye may see there in the stound." 

Thereof false Turpin was full glad and faine. 

And needs with him streight to the place would ryde. 

Where he himselfe might see his foeman slaine ; 

For else his feare could not be satisfyde. 

So, as they rode, he saw the way all dyde 

With streames of bloud ; which tracting by the traile. 

Ere Ions: they came, whenas in evill tyde 

That other swayne, like ashes deadly pale. 

Lay in the lap of death, rewing his wretched bale. 

Much did the craven seeme to mone his case. 

That for his sake his deare hfe had forgone; 

And, him bewayling with affection base, 

Pid count rfeit kind pi; tie where was none : 

For Where's no courage, there's no ruth nor mone. 

Thence passing forth, not farre away he found 

Whereas the prince himselfe lay all alone, 

Loosely display d upon the grass le ground. 

Possessed of sweete sleepe that luld him soft in swound. 

Wearie of travell in his former fight, 

He there in shade himselfe had layd to rest. 

Having his armes and warlike things undight, 

Fearelesse of foes that mote his peace molest ; 

The whyles his salvage page, that wont be prest. 

Was wandred in the wood another way, 

To doe some thing, that seemed to him best; 

The whiles his lord in silver slomber lay, 

Like to the evening starre adorn'd with deawy ray» 



f 



THE FAERIE QTTEENB. 715 

Whom wbenas Turpin saw so loosely layd, 

He weened well that he indeed was dead, 

Like as that other knight to him had sayd : 

But, when he nigh approcht, he mote aread 

Plaine signes in him of life and livelihead. 

Whereat much griev'd against that straunger knight. 

That him too light of credence did mislead, 

He would have backe retyred from that sight. 

That was .to him on earth the deadliest despight. 

But that same knight would not once let liim start: 
But plainely gan to him declare the case 
Of all his mischiefe and late lucklesse smart; 
How both he and his fellow there in place 
Were vanquished, and put to foule disgrace ; 
And how that he, in lieu of life him lent. 
Had vow'd unto the victor, him to trace 
And follow through the world whereso he went. 
Till that he him delivered to his punishment. 

He, therewith much abashed and affrayd 

Began to tremble every limbe and vaine ; 

And, softly whispering him, entirely prayd 

T' advize him better then by such a traine 

Him to betray unto a straunger swaine ; 

Yet rather counseld him contrarywize, 

Sith he likewise did wrong by him sustaine, 

To ioyne with him and vengeance to devize, 

Whylest time did offer meanes him sleeping to surprise. 

l^athelesse, for all his speach, the gentle knight 

Would not be tempted to such villenie, 

E-egarding more his faith which he did plight, 

All were it to his mortall enemie, 

Then to entrap him by false treacherie : 

Great shame in lieges' blood to be embrew'd! 

Thus whylest they were debating diverslie, 

The salvage forth out of the wood issew'd 

Backe to the place, whereas his lord he sleeping vew'd. 

There when he saw those two so neare him stand. 
He doubted much what mote their meaning bee ; 
And, throwing downe his load out of his liand, 
(To weet, great store of forrest frute which hee 
ITad for his food late gather, d from the tree,) 
Himselfe unto his weapon he betooke, 
That was an oaken plant, which lately hee 
Kent by the root ; which he so sternly shooke, 
That like an hazeil wand it quivered and quooke. 



716 THE FAEEIE QTJEENB. 

Whereat the prince awakinpr, when he spyde 

The traytonr Turpin with that other knight, 

He started up ; and snatching neare his syde 

His trustie sword, the servant of his might, 

Like a fell lyon leaped to him Hght, 

Apd his left hand upon his collar layd. 

Therewith the cowheard, deaded with affright, 

Pell flat to ground, ne word unto him sayd. 

But, holding up his hands, with silence mercie prayi 

But he so full of indignation was. 
That to his prayer nought he would incline. 
But, as he lay upon the humbled gras. 
His foot he set on his vile necke, in signe 
Of servile yoke, that nobler harts repine. 
Then, letting him arise like abiect thrall. 
He gan to him obiect his haynous crime, 
And to revile, and rate, and recreant call, • 
And lastly to despoyle of knightly banneralL 

And after all, for greater infamie. 

He by the heeles him hung upon a tree. 

And baffuld so, that all which passed by 

The picture of his punishment might see. 

And by the like ensample warned bee. 

However they through treason doe trespass©. 

But turne we now backe to that ladie free. 

Whom late we left ryding upon an asse. 

Led by a carle and foole which by her side did passe. 

She was a ladie of great dignitie. 

And hfted up to honorable place, 

Famous through all the land of Faerie : 

Though of meane parentage and kindred base. 

Yet deckt with wondrous giftes of natures grace. 

That all men did her person much admire, 

And praise the feature of her goodly face; 

The beames whereof did kindle lovely fire 

Li th' harts of many a knight, and many a gentle s quire « 

But she thereof grew proud and insolent. 
That none she worthie thought to be her fere. 
But scornd them all that love unto her ment; 
Yet was she lov*d of many a worthy pere : 
Unworthy she to be belov'd so dere. 
That could not weigh of worthinesse aright: 
For beautie is more glorious bright and clere, 
The more it is admir'd of many a wight. 
And noblest she that served is of noblest knight 



THE FAEKIE QTTEENE. 7l7 

But tliis coy damzell thought contrariwiise. 

That such proud looks would make her praysed more 

And that, the more she did all love despize. 

The more would wretched lovers her adore. 

What cared she who sighed for her sore, 

Or who did wayle or watch the wearie night? f 

Let them that list their lucklesse lot deplore ; 

She" was borne free, not bound to any wdght, 

And so would ever live, and love her own delight. 

Through such her stubborne stifnesse and hard hart. 

Many a wretch for want of remedie 

Did languish long in life-consuming smart, 

And at the last through dreary dolour die : 

Whylest she, the ladie of her libertie, 

Did boast her beautie had such soveraine might, 

That with the onely twinckle of her eye 

She could or save or spill whom she would hight : 

What could the gods doe more, but doe it more aright? 

But loe! the gods, that mortall follies vew. 

Did worthily revenge this maydens pride ; ^ 

And, nought regarding her so goodly hew. 

Did laugh at her that many did deride, 

Whilest she did weepe, of no man mercifide : 

For on a day, when Cupid kept his court. 

As he is wont at each Saint Valentide, 

Unto the which all lovers doe resort, 

That of their loves successe they there may make report ; 

It fortun'd then, that when the ronles were red. 

In which the names of all Loves folke were fyled, 

That many there were missing ; which were ded. 

Or kept in bands, or from their loves exyled. 

Or bv some other violence despoyled. 

AVhich when as Cupid heard, he wexed wroth; 

And, doubting to be wronged or beguyled. 

He bad his eyes to be unblindfold both, 

That he might see his men, and muster them by oth. 

Then found he many missing of his crew, 
Which wont doe suit and service to his might ; 
Of whom what was becomen no man knew. 
Therefore a iurie was impaneld streight 
T' enqiiire of them, whether by force or sleight^ 
Or their owne guilt, they were away convayd: 
To whom foule Infiimie and fell Despight 
Gave evidence, that they were all betrayd 
And murdred cruelly by a rebcUious mayd. 



718 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

Fayre Mirabella was her name, whereby 

Of all those crymes she there indited was : 

All which when Cupid heard, he by and by 

In great displeasure wil'd a capias 

Should issue forth t'attach that scornefull lasse. 

The warrant straight was made, and therewithal! 

A baylieffe errant forth in post did passe, 

"Whom they by name their Portamore did call ; 

He which doth summon lovers to Loves iudgement hall. 

The damzell was attacht, and shortly brought 
Unto the barre whereas she was arrayned : 
But she thereto nould plead, nor answere ought. 
Even for stubborne pride, which her restrayned : 
So iudgement past, as is by law ordayned 
In cases like; which, when at last she saw, 
Her stubborne hart, which love before disdajoied, 
Gan stoupe; and, falling downe with humble awe, 
Cryde mercie, to abate the extremitie of law. 

The Sonne of Venus, who is myld by kynd. 

But where he is provokt by peevishnesse. 

Unto her prayers piteously enclynd. 

And did the rigour of his doome represse ; 

Yet not so freely, but tliat nathelesse 

He unto her a penance did impose, 

Which was, that through this worlds wyde wildernes 

She wander should in companie of those, 

Till she had sav'd so many loves as she did lose. 

So now she had bene wandring two whole yeares 

Throughout the world, in this uncomely case, 

Wasting her goodly hew in heavie teares. 

And her good dayes in dolorous disgrace; 

Yet had she not in all these two yeares space 

Saved but two; yet in two yeares before. 

Through her dispiteous pride, whilest love lackt place, 

She had destroyed two and twenty more. 

Aie me, how could her love make halfe amends therefore ! 

And now she was uppon the weary way, 
Whenas the gentle squire, with faire Serene, 
Met her in such misseeming foule array ; 
The whiles that mighty man did her demeane 
With all the evill termes and cruell meane 
That he could make; and eeke that angry foole 
. A^'hich follow'd her, with cursed hands uncleane 
W^hipping her horse, did with his smarting toole 
Oft whip her daintie selfe, and much augment her doole. 



THE FAERIE QUEENB. 719 

Ne ouglit it mote availe her to entreat 
The one or th* other better her to use ; 
For both so wilfull were and obstinate 
That all her piteous plaint they did refuse, 
And rather did the more her beate and bruse : 
But most the former villaine, which did lead 
Her tyreling iade, was bent her to abuse ; 
Who, though she were with wearinesse nigh dead, 
Yet would nob let her lite, nor rest a little stead: 

For he was sterne and terrible by nature. 

And eeke of person huge and hideous, 

Exceeding much the measure of man's stature. 

And rather like a gyant monstruous : 

For sooth he was descended of the hous 

Of those old gyants, which did warres darraino 

Against the heaven in order battailous ; 

And sib to great Orgolio, which was slaine 

By Arthure, whenas Unas knight he did maintaine. 

His lookes were dreadful!, and his fiery eies. 

Like two great beacons, glared bright and wyde, 

Glauncing askew, as if his enemies 

He scorned in his overweening pryde ; 

And stalking stately, like a crane, did stryde. 

At every step uppon the tiptoes hie; 

And, all the way he went, on every syde 

He gazed about and stared horriblie, 

As if he with his lookes would all men 'terrifie. 

He wore no armour, ne for none did care. 

As no whit dreading any living wight; 

But in a iacket, quilted richly rare 

Upon checklaton, he was straungely dight; 

And on his head a roll of linnen plight. 

Like to the Mores of Malaber, he wore, 

With which his locks, as blacke as pitchy night. 

Were bound about, and voyded from before ; 

And in his hand a mighty yron club he bore. 

This was Disdaine, who led that ladies horse 

Through thick and thin, through mountains and througli 

Compelling her, where she would not, by force, [plains. 

Haling her palfrey by the hempen raines ; 

But that same foole, which most increast her paines. 

Was Scorne ; who, having in his hand a whip. 

Her therewith yirks ; and still, when she complaines. 

The more he laughes, and does her closelv quip. 

To see her sore lameixt, aud bite her tender lip. 



720 THE PAEBIE QFEENE. 

Whose cruell handling when that squire beheld. 

And saw those villaines her so yildely use, 

His gentle heart with indignation sweld, 

And could no lenger beare so great abuse 

4s such a lady so to beate and bruse ; 

But, to him stepping, such a stroke him lent. 

That forst him th' halter from his hand to loose. 

And, maugre all his might, backe to relent : 

Else had he surely there bene slaine, or fowly shent. 

The villaine, wroth for greeting him so sore. 

Gathered himselfe together soone againe. 

And with his yron batton which he bore 

Let drive at him so dreadfully amaine, 

That for his safety he did him constraine 

To give him ground, and shift to eveiy side, 

[Rather than once his burden to sustaine : 

Por bootlesse thing him seemed to abide 

So mighty blowes, or prove the puissaunce of liis prida. 

Like as a mastiffe having at a bay 

A salvage bull, whose cruell homes doe threat 

Desperate daunger, if he them assay, 

Traceth his ground, and round about doth beat. 

To spy where he may some advantage get, 

The whiles the beast doth rage and loudly rore; 

So did the squire, the whiles the carle did fret 

And fume in his disd^inefull mynd the more. 

And oftentimes by Turmagant and Mahound swore. 

Kathelesse so sharpely still he him pursewd. 
That at advantage him at last he tooke, 
When his foote slipt, (that shp he dearely rewd,) 
And with his yron club to ground him strooke ; 
"Where still he lay, ne out of swoune awooke. 
Till heavy hand the carle upon him layd. 
And bound him fast: tho when he up did looke 
And saw himselfe captiv'd, he was dismayd, 
iNe powre had to withstand, ne hope of any ayd.. 

Then up he made him rise, and forward fare, 
' Led in a rope which both his hands did byndj 
Ne ought that foole for pitty did him spare. 
But with his whip him following behynd 
Him often scourg'd, and forst his feete to fynd: 
And otherwhiles with bitter mockes and mowes 
He would him scorne, that to his gentle mynd 
Was much more grievous then the other blowes: [growes. 
Wordes sharpely wound, but greatest griefe of scorning 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

The faire Serena, wlien she saw him fall 
Under that villaines club, then surely thought 
That slaine he was, or made a wretched thrail, 
And fled away with all the speede she mought 
To seeke for safety; which long time she sought. 
And past through many perils by the way, 
Ere she againe to Calepine was brought : 
The which discourse as now I must delay, 
Till Mirabellaes fortunes I doe further say. 



CANTO vni. 

Prince Arthure overcomes Disdaine ; 

Quites Mirabell from dreed: 
Serena, found of salvages. 

By Calepine is freed. 

Ye gentle ladies, in whose soveraine powre 

Love hath the glory of his kingdome left. 

And th* hearts of men, as your eternal dowre> 

In yron chaines, of liberty bereft, 

Delivered hath unto your hands by gift ; 

Be well aware how ye the same doe use. 

That pride doe not to tyranny you lift ; 

Least, if men you of cruelty accuse. 

He from you take that chiefedome which ye doe abuse. 

And as ye soft and tender are by kynde, 
Adomd with goodly gifts of beauties grace, 
So be ye soft and tender eeke in mynde ; 
But cruelty and hardnesse from you chace. 
That all your other praises will deface. 
And from you turne the love of men to hate: 
Ensample take of Mirabellaes case. 
Who from the high degree of happy state 
Fell into wretched woes, which she repented late* 

Who after thraldome of the gentle squire. 

Which she beheld with lamentable eye. 

Was touched with compassion entire. 

And much lamented his calamity. 

That ^or her sake fell into misery ; 

Which booted nought for prayers nor for threat 

To hope for to release or mollify; 

For aye the more that she did them entreat, 

The more they him misust, and cruelly did beat. 



722 THE FAERIE QTTEENB. 

So as they forward on their way did pas, 

Bim still reviling and afflicting sore. 

They met Prince Arthure with Sir Enias, 

(That was that courteous knight, whom he before 

Having subdew'd yet did to life restore;) 

To whom as they approcht, they gan augment 

Their cruelty, and him to punish more, 

Scourging and haling him more vehement; 

As if it them should grieve to see his punishment. 

The squire himselfe, whenas he saw his lord 

The witnesse of his vrretchednesse in place. 

Was much asham'd that with an hempen cord 

He like a dog was led in captive case, 

And did his head for bashfulnesse abase. 

As loth to see or to be seene at all ; 

Shame would be hid ; but whenas Enias 

Beheld two such, of two such villaines thrall. 

His manly mynde was much emmoved therewithal! i 

And to the prince thus sayd ; *' See you, sir knight. 

The greatest shame that ever eye yet saw, 

Yond lady and her squire with foule despight 

Abusde, against all reason and all law, 

Without regard of pitty or of awe ! 

See ! how they doe that squire beat and revile! 

See ! how they doe the lady hale and draw ! 

But, if ye please to lend me leave awhile, 

I will them soone acquite, and both of blame assoile.** 

The prince assented ; and then he, streightway 

Dismounting light, his shield about him threw. 

With which approaching thus he gan to say; 

" Abide ye caytive treachetours untrew. 

That have with treason thralled unto you 

These two, unworthy of your wretched bands; 

And now your crime with cruelty purse w : 

Abide, and from them lay your loathly hands ; 

Or else abide the death that hard before you stands."* 

The villaine stayd not aunswere to invent ; 
But, with his yron club preparing way, 
His mindes sad message backe unto him sent; 
The which descended with such dreadfull sway. 
That seemed nouerht the course thereof could stay, 
No more then lightening from the lofty sky : 
ISTe list the knight the powre thereof assay, 
Whose doome was death ; but, lightly slipping by. 
Unwares defrauded his intended destiny : 



f 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 723 

And, to requite liim with the like againe. 
With his sharpe sword he fiercely at him flew, 
And strooke so strongly, that the carle with paine 
Saved himselfe but that he there him slew ; 
Yet sav'd not so, but that the blood it drew. 
And gave his foe good hope of victory : 
Who, therewith flesht, upon him set anew. 
And with the second stroke thought certainely 
To have supplyde the first, and paide the usury, 

But fortune aunswerd not unto his call ; 

For, as his hand was heaved up on hight. 

The villaine met him in the middle fall. 

And with his club bet backe his brond-yi*on bright 

So forcibly, that with his owne hands might 

[Rebeaten backe upon himselfe againe 

He driven was to ground in selfe despight ; 

Prom whence ere he recovery could gaine. 

He in his necke had set his foote with fell disdaine. 

With that the foole, which did that end awayte. 

Came running in ; and, whilest on ground he lay, 

Laide heavie hands on him and held so strayte. 

That downe he kept him with his scornefuli sway. 

So as he could not weld him any way : 

The whiles that other villaine went about 

Him to have bound and thrald without delay; 

The whiles the foole did him revile and flout, 

Threatning to yoke them two and tame their corage stout. 

As when a sturdy ploughman with his hynde 
By strength have overthrowne a stubbome steare, 
They downe him hold, and fast with cords do bynde. 
Till they him force the buxome yoke to beare ; 
So did these two this knight oft tug and teare. 
Whicli when the prince beheld, there standing by. 
He left his lofty steede to aide him neare ; 
And, buckling soone himselfe, gan fiercely fly 
Upon that carle, to save his friend from ieopardy. 

The villaine, leaving him unto his mate 

To be captiv'd and handled as he list, 

Himselfe addrest unto this new debate, 

And with his club him all about so blist, 

That'he which way to turne him scarcely wist: 

Sometimes aloft he layd, sometimes alow. 

Now here, now there, and oft him neare he mist. 

So doubtfully, that hardly one could know 

Whether more wary were to give or ward the blow. 



724 THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 

But yet tlie prince so well enured was 

With sucli huge strokes, approved oft in fight. 

That way to them he gave forth right to pas ; 

Ne would endure the daunger of their might, 

But wsLjt advantage when they downe did light. 

At last the caytive after long discourse, 

"When all his strokes he saw avoyded quite, 

Hesolved in one t' assemble all his force. 

And make one end of him without ruth or remorse. 

His dreadful! hand he heaved up aloft. 

And with his dreadfull instrument of yre 

Thought sure have pownded him to powder soft. 

Or deepe emboweld in the earth entyre ; 

But fortune did not with his will conspire : 

For, ere his stroke attayned his intent, 

The noble childe, preventing his desire, 

Under his club with wary boldnesse went. 

And smote him on the knee that never yet was bent. 

It never yet was bent, ne bent it now, 

Albe the stroke so strong and puissant were. 

That seem'd a marble pillour it could bow; 

But all that leg, which did his body beare, 

It crackt throughout, (yet did no bloud appeare,) 

So as it was unable to support 

So huge a burden on such broken geare, 

But fell to ground like to a lumpe of durt ; 

Whence he assayed to rise, but could not for his hurt. 

Eftsoo'nes the prince to him full nimbly stept 
And, least he should recover foote againe. 
His head meant from his shoulders to have swept : 
Which when the lady saw, she cryde amaine ; 
" Stay, stay, sir kni . ht, for lov3 of God abstaine 
From that unwares ye weetlesse doe intend ; 
Slay not that carle, though worthy to be slaine ; 
For more on him doth then himselfe depend ; 
My life will by his death have lamentable end." 

He staide his hand according her desire. 

Yet nathemore him sufFred to arize ; 

But, still suppressing, gan of her inquire, 

What meaning mote those uncouth words comprize. 

That in that villaines health her safety lies ; 

That were no might in man, nor heart in knights, 

Which durst her dreaded«reskue enterprize ; 

Yet heavens themselves, that favour feeble rights. 

Would for itselfe redresse, and punish such despights. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 725 

Then bursting forth in teares, which gushed fast 

Like many water-streams, awhile she stayed ; 

Till the sharpe passion being overpast, 

Her tongue to her restord, then tlius she sayd ; 

" Nor heavens, nor men, can me most wretched mayd 

Deliver from the doome of my desart, 

The which the god of love hath on me layd. 

And damned to endure this direfall smarb, 

For penaunce of my proud and hard rebellious hart. 

" In prime of youthly yeares, when first the flowre 
Of beauty gan to bud, and bloosme delight ; 
And nature me endu'd with plenteous dowre 
Of all her gifts, that pletisde each living sight; 
I was belov'd of many a gentle knight, 
And sude and sought with all the service dew : 
Full many a one for me deepe groand and sigh*t, 
And to the dore of death for sorrow drew, 
Complayning out on 7ne that would not on them raw, 

** But let them love that list, or live or die ; 
Me list not die for any lovers doole : 
JSTe list me leave my loved libertie 
To pitty him that list to play the foole : 
To love myself I learned had in schoole. 
Thus I triumphed long in lovers paine, 
And, sitting carelesse on the scorners stoole, 
Did laugh at those that did lament and plaine : 
But all is now repayd with interest againe. 

**For loe ! the winged god, that woundeth harts, 
Causde me be called to accompt therefore ; 
And for revengement of those wrongfull smarts. 
Which I to others did inflict afore, 
Addeem*d me to endure this penaunce sore ; 
That in this wize, and this unmeete array, 
With these two lewd companions, and no more, 
Disdaine and Scorne, I through the world should stray. 
Till I have sav'd so many as I earst did slay." 

** Certes," sayd then the prince, " the god is iust. 

That taketh vengeaunce of his peoples spoile : 

For were no law in love, but all that lust 

Might them oppresse, and painefully turmoile. 

His kingdome would continue but a while. 

But tell me, lady, wherefore doe you beare 

This bottle thus before you with such toile. 

And eeke this wallet at your backe arreare. 

That for these carles to carry much more comely wereP" 



726 THE PAEEIB QITEENE. 

" Here in tliis bottle," sayd the sory mayd, 

" I put the tears of my contrition. 

Till to the brim I have it full defrayd : 

And in this bag, which I behinde me don, 

I put repentaunce for thin,2:s past and gon« 

Yet is the bottle leake, and bag so torne. 

That all which I put in fals out anon. 

And is behinde me trodden downe of Scorne, 

Who mocketh all mypaine, and laughs the morel mourn. 

The infant hearkned wisely to her tale, 

And wondred much at Cupids iudg'ment wise. 

That could so meekly make proud hearts avale. 

And wreake himselfe on them that him despise. 

Then suffred he Disdaine up to arise, 

"Who was not able up himselfe to reare, 

By meanes his leg, through his late lucklesse prise. 

Was crackt in twaine, but by his foolish feare 

Was holpen up, who him supported standing neare. 

But being up he lookt againe aloft. 

As if he never had received fall ; 

And with sterne eye-brows stared at him oft. 

As if he would have daunted him withall : 

And standing on his tiptoes, to seeme tall, 

Dovnie on his golden feete he often gazed. 

As if such pride the other could apall ; 

Who was so far from being ought amazed, ^ 

That he his lookes despised, and his boast dispraized. 

Then turning backe unto that captive thrall, 
Who all this while stood there beside them bound. 
Unwilling to be knowne or seene at all. 
He from those bands weend him to have unwound; 
But when approaching neare he plainely found 
Tt was his owne true groome, the gentle squire. 
He thereat wext exceedingly astound, 
And him did oft embrace, and oft admire, 
Ne could with seeing satisfie his great desire. 

Meane while the salvage man, when he beheld 

That huge great foole oppressing th' other knight. 

Whom with his weight unweldy downe he held. 

He flew upon him like a greedy kiglit 

Unto some carrion offered to his sight ; 

And, downe him plucking, with his nayles and teetli 

Gan him to hale, and tearc, and scratch, and bite; 

And, from him taking his owne whip, therewith 

So sore him scourgeth that the bloud downe followeth. 






THE FAERIE QTJEENE. 727 

And sure I weene, liad not the ladies cry 

Procur'd the prince his cruell liand to stay, 

He would with whipping him have done to dye: 

But, being checkt, he did abstaine streightway 

And let him rise. Then thus the prince gan say ; 

"Now, lady, sith your fortunes thus dispose, 

That, if ye list have liberty, ye may ; 

Unto yourselfe I freely leave to chose, 

Whether I shall you leave, or from these villaines lose." 

** All ! nay, sir knight," said she, " it may not be. 

But that I needes must by all meanes fulfill 

This penaunce, which enioyned is to me. 

Least unto me betide a greater ill : 

Yet no lesse thankes to you for your good wiU." 

So humbly taking leave she turnd aside : 

But Arthure with the rest went onward still 

On his first quest, in which did him betide 

A great adventure, which did him from them devido. 

But first it falleth me by course to tell 
Of faire Serena; who, as earst you heard. 
When first the gentle squire at variaunce fell 
With those two carles, fled fast away, afeard 
Of villany to be to her inferd : 
So fresh the image of her former dread, 
Yet dwelUng in her eye, to her appear d, 
That every foote did tremble which did tread. 
And every body two, and two she foure did read. 

Through hils and dales, through bushes and through breres. 

Long tiius she fied, till that at last she thought 

Herselfe now past the perill of her feares : 

Then looking round about, and seeing nought 

Which doubt of daunger to her offer mought. 

She from her palfrey lighted on the plaine ; 

And, sitting downe,%erselfe awhile bethought 

Of her long travcll and turmoyling paine ; 

And often did of love, and oft of lucke, complaine. 

And evermore she blamed Calepine, 

The good Sir Calepine, her owne true knighl^ 

As th' onely author of her wofull tine ; 

For being of his love to her so light, 

As her to leave in such a piteous plight. 

Yet never turtle truer to his make, 

Then he was tri e unto his lady bright: 

Who all this wliile endured for lier sake 

Great perill of his life, and resllcsse paines did take. 



728 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

Tho whenas all lier plaints slie had displayd. 
And well disburdened her engrieved brest 
Upon the grasse herselfe adowne she layd; 
"Where, being tyrde with travell, and opprcst 
With sorrow, she betooke herselfe to rest : 
There whilest in Morpheus bosome safe she lay 
Fearelesse of ought that mote her peace molest. 
False fortune did her safety betray 
Unto a strange mischaunce, that menac'd her decay* 

In these wylde deserts, where she now abode. 
There dwelt a salvage nation, which did live 
Of stealth and spoile, and making nightly rode 
Into their neighbours borders ; ne did give 
Themselves to any trade, (as for to drive 
The painefull plough, or cattell for to breed. 
Or by adventrous merchandize to thrive,) 
But on the labours of poor men to feed, 
And serve their owne necessities with others need. 

Thereto they nsde one most accursed order. 

To eate the flesh of men, whom they mote fynde. 

And straungers to devoure, which on their border 

Were brought by errour or by wreckfuU wynde : 

A monstrous cruelty gainst course of kynde 

They, towards evening wandering every way 

To seeke for booty, came by fortune blynde 

Wrhereas this lady, like a sheep e astray, 

Now drowned in the depth of sleepe all fearlesse lay, 

Soone as they spide her, lord ! what gladfull glee 

They made amongst themselves ! but when her face 

Like the faire yvory shining they did see 

Each gan his fellow solace and embrace 

For ioy of such good hap by heavenly grace 

Then gan they to devize what course to take ; 

Whether to slay her there upon the plfce, 

Or suffer her out of her sleepe to wake, 

And then her eate attonce, or many meales to make. 

The best advizement was, of bad, to let her 

Sleepe out her fill without encomberment ; 

For sleepe, they sayd, would make her battill better 

Then, when she wakt, they all gave one consent 

That, since by grace of God she there was sent. 

Unto their god they would her sacrifize, 

W^hose share, her guiltlcssc bloud they would present 

But of her dainty flesh they did devize 

To make a common feast, and feed with gurmandize. 




" Then gan they to devize what course to take, 
"Whether to slay her there upon the place, 
Or suffer her out of her sleepe to wake." 

Book VI. Canto VIIL Ver. 87. 



THE FAEEIE QITEENE. 729 

So round about her they themselves did place 

Upon the grasse, and diversely dispose, 

As each thought best to spend the lingring space : 

Some with their eyes the daintest morsels chose; 

Some praise her paps ; some praise her lips and nose ; 

Some whet their knives, and strip their elboes bare ; 

The priest himselfe a garland doth compose 

Of finest flowers, and with full busie care 

His bloudy vessels wash and holy fire prepare. 

The damzell Tralces ; then all attonce upstart, 
And round about her flocke, like many flies. 
Whooping and hallowing on every part, 
As if they would have rent the brasen skies. 
Which when she sees with ghastly griefful eies. 
Her heart does quake, and deadly pallid hew 
Benumbes her cheeks : then out aloud she cries, 
Where none is nigh to heare, that will her rew. 
And rends her golden locks, and snowy brests embrew. 

But all bootes not ; they hands upon her lay : 
And first they spoile her of her iewels deare. 
And afterwards of all her rich array; 
The which amongst them they in peeces teare 
And of the pray each one a part doth beare. 
]N"ow being naked, to their sordid eyes 
The goodly threasures of nature appeare : 
Which as they view with lustfull fantasyes, 
Eeach wisheth to himselfe, and to the rest envyes. 

Her yvorie neck ; her alablaster brest ; 

Her paps, which like white silken pillowes were 

For Love in soft delight thereon to rest ; 

Her tender sides ; her bellie white and clere 

Which like an altar did itselfe uprere 

To offer sacrifice divine thereon ; 

Her goodly thighes, whose glorie did appeare 

Like a triumphall arch, and thereupon 

The spoiles of princes hang'd which were in battel won. 

Those daintie parts, the dearlings of delight, 

Which mote not be prophan'd of common eyes, 

Those villeins vew'd with loose lascivious sight, 

And closely tempted with their crafty spyes ; 

And some of them gan mongst themselves devize 

Thereof by force to take their beastly pleasure : 

But them the priest rebuking did advize 

To dare not to pollute so sacred threasure 

Vow'd to the gods : rehgion held even theeves m measure. 



730 THE TAEEIE QTJEENE. 

So, being stayd, tlieyher from tlience directed 

Unto a litle grove not farre asyde, 

In which an altar shortly they erected 

To slay her on. And now the eventyde 

His brode black wings had through the heavens wyde 

3y this dispred, that was the tyme ordayned, 

For such a dismall deede, their guilt to hyde : 

Of few greene turfes an altar soone they fayned, 

And deckt it all with flowres which they nigli hand obtayned. 

Tho, whenas all things readie were aright. 

The damzell w^as before the altar set. 

Being alreadie dead with fearefull fright : 

To whom the priest with naked armes fall net 

Approching nigh, and murdrous knife well whet^ 

Gan mutter close a certaine secret charme. 

With other divelish ceremonies met : 

Which doen, he gan aloft t' advance his arme, 

Whereat they shouted all, and made a loud alarme. 

Then gan the bagpypes and the homes to shrill 

And shrieke aloud, that, with the peoples Yoyce 

Confused, did the ayre with terror fill. 

And made the wood to tremble at the noyce : 

The whyles she wayld, the more they did reioyco. 

Now mote ye understand that to this grove . 

Sir Calepine, hy chaunce more then by cLoyce, 

The selfe same evening fortune hether drove, 

As he to seeke Serena, through the woods did rove. 

Long had he sought her, and through many a soyle 

Had traveld still on foot in heavie armes, 

ISTe ought was tyred with his endlesse toyle, 

Ne ought was feared of his certaine harmes : 

And now, all weetlesse of the wretched stormes 

In which his love was lost, he slept full fast ; 

Till, being waked witli these loud alarmes. 

He lightly started up like one aghast, 

And catching up his armes streight to the noise forth past. 

There by th' uncertaine glims of starry night. 
And by the twinkling of their sacred fire. 
He mote i)erceive a little dawning sight 
Of all which there was doing in that quire : 
Mongst whom a woman spoyled of all attire 
He spyde lamenting her unluckie strife, 
And groning sore from grieved hart entire: 
Eftsoones he saw one with a naked knife 
Eeadie to launch her brest, and let out loved life. 



THE FAERIE QITEENE. 731 

With that he thrusts into the thickest throDg; 
And, even as his right hand adowne descends. 
He him preventing lays on earth along, 
And sacrifizeth to th' infernall feends : 
Then to the rest his wrathfull hand he bends ; 
Of whom he makes such havocke and such hew. 
That swarmes of damned soules to hell he sends : 
The rest, that scape his sword and death eschew. 
Fly like a flocke of doves before a faulcons vew. 

From them returning to that ladie backe, 

Whom by the altar he doth sitting find 

Yet fearing death, and next to death the lacke 

Of clothes to cover what she ought by kind; 

He first her hands beginneth to unbind. 

And then to question of her present woe ; ^ 

And afterwards to cheare with speaches kind : 

But she, for nought that he could say or doe, 

One word durst speake, or answere him a whit thereto. 

So inward shame of her uncomely case 

She did conceive, through care of womanhood. 

That though the night did cover her disgrace. 

Yet she in so unwomanly a mood 

Would not bewray the state in which she stood : 

So all that night to him unknown she past : 

But day, that doth discover bad and good, 

Ensewing, made her knowen to him at last : 

The end whereof He keepe until! another cast. 



CANTO IX. 

Calidore hostes with Melibee, 
And loves fay re rastorell: 

Coridon envies him, yet he, 
For ill, rewards him well. 

!N'ow turne againe my teme, thou iolly swayne, 
Backe to the furrow which I lately left ; 
I lately left a furrow one or twayne 
XJnplough'd, the which my coulter had not cleft i 
Yet seem'd the soyle both fayre and frutefull eft. 
As I it past ; tliat were too great a shame, 
That so rich frute should be from us bereft ; 
Besides the great dishonour and defame. 
Which should befall to Caiidores immortall name. 



732 THE FAEEIE QTTEENB. 

Great trayell bath the gentle Calidore 

And toyle endured, sith I left him last 

Sewing the blatant beast ; which I forbore 

To finish then, for other present hast. 

Full many pathes and perils he hath past, [plaines. 

Through hils, through dales, through forests, and through 

In that same quest which fortune on him cast, 

Which he atchieved to his owne great gaines, 

Heaping eternall glorie of his restless e paines. 

So sharply he the monster did pursew, 

That day nor night he suffred him to rest, 

Ne rested he himselfe (but natures dew) 

For dread of daunger not to be redrest. 

If he for slouth forslackt so famous quest. 

Him first from court he to the citties coursed. 

And from the citties to the townes him prest. 

And from the townes into the countrie forsed. 

And from the country back to private farmes he scorsed. 

From thence into the open fields he fled, ^ 
Whereas the heardes were keeping of their neat, 
And shepheards singing, to their flockes that fed, 
Layes of sweet love and youthes delightful! heat: 
Him thether eke for all his fearefull threat 
He followed fast, and chaced him so nie, 
That to the folds, where sheepe at night doe seat. 
And to the litle cots, where shepherds lie 
In winters wrathfuil time, he forced him to flie. 

There on a day, as he pursew'd the chace. 

He chaunst to spy a sort of shepheard groomes 

Playing on pj^pes and caroling apace. 

The whyles their beasts there in the budded broomeB 

Beside them fed, and nipt the tender bloomes; 

For other worldly wealth they cared nought : 

To whom Sir Calidore yet sweating comes. 

And then to tell him courteously besought, 

If such a beast they saw, which he had thether brought. 

They answered him that no such beast they saw, 
'Nov any wicked feend that mote ofiend 
Their happie flockes, nor daunger to them draw ; 
Eut if that such there were (as none they kend) 
They prayd High God them farre from them to send s 
Then one of them him seeing so to sweat, 
After his rusticke wise, that well he weend, 
OiFred him drinke to quenche his thirstie heat. 
And, if he hungry were, him offred eke to eat. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 733 

The kniglit was nothing nice, where was no need. 

And tooke their gentle offer: so adowne 

They prayd him sit, and gave him for to feed 

Such homely what as serves the simple clowne. 

That doth despise the dainties of the towne : 

Tho, having fed. his fill, he there besyde 

Saw a faire damzell, which did weare a crowne 

Of sundry flowres with silken ribbands tyde, 

Yclad in home-made greene that her owne hands had dyde. 

Upon a litle hillocke she was placed 

Higher then all the rest, and round abou^ 

Environ'd with a girland, goodly graced, 

Of lovely lasses; and them all without 

The lustie shepheard swaynes sate in a rout. 

The which did pype and sing her prayses dew, 

And oft reioyce, and oft for wonder shout, 

As if some miracle of heavenly hew 

Were downe to them descended in that earthly vew. 

And soothly sure she was full fayre of face. 
And perfectly well shapt in every lim. 
Which she did more augment with modest grace 
And comely carriage of her count nance trim. 
That all the rest like lesser lamps did dim : 
Who, her admiring as some heavenly wight, 
Pid for their soveraine goddesse her esteeme. 
And, caroling her name both day and night, 
The fayrest Pastorella her by name did hight. 

Ne was there heard, ne was there shepheards swayne 

But her did honour ; and eke many a one 

Burnt in her love, and with sweet pleasing payne 

Full many a night for her did sigh and grone : 

But most of all the shepheard Coridon 

For her did languish, and his deare life spend; 

Yet neither she for him nor other none 

Did care a whit, ne any liking lend : 

Though meane her lot, yet higher did her mind ascend. 

Her whyles Sir Calidore there vewed well. 
And markt her rare demeanure, which him seemed 
So farre the meane of shepheards to excell. 
As that he in his mind her worthy deemed 
To be a princes paragone esteemed, 
He was unwares surprisd in subtile bands 
Of the blvnd boy; ne thence could be redeemed 
By any skill out of his cruell hands : 
Caught like the bird which gazing still on others stands. 
o2 



734 THE FAEEIS QITEENB, 

So stood he still long gazlno^ thereupon, 

Ne any will had thence to move away, 

Although his quest were farre afore him goa« 

But after he had fed, yet did lie stay 

And sate there still, untill tlie flying day 

Was farre forth spent, discoursing diversly 

Of sundry thin2:s, as fell, to worke delay; 

And evermore his speach he did apply 

To th' heards, but meant them to the damzels fantasy. 

By this the moystie night approching fast 
Her deawy humour gan on th' earth to shed, 
Tiiat warn'd the shep heards to their homes to hast 
Their tender flocks, now being fully fed, 
For feare of wetting them before their bed : 
Then came to them a good old aged syre, 
Whose silver lockes bedeckt his beard and hed. 
With shep beards hooke in hand, and fit at tyre, 
That wil'd the damzell rise ; the day did now expyre. 

He was to weet, by common voice, esteemed 

The father of the fayrest Pastorell, 

And of herselfe in very deede so deemed; 

Yet was not so; but, as old stories tell, 

Found her by fortune, which to him befell. 

In th' open fields an infant left alone; 

And, taking up, brought home and noursed well 

As his owne chyld; for other he had none; 

That she in tract of time accompted was his owno. 

She at his bidding meekely did arise, 

And streight unto her litle flocke did fare: • 

Then all the rest about her rose likewise, 

And each his sundrie sheepe with severall care 

Gathered together, and them homeward bare : ^ 

Whylest everie one with helping htinds did strive 

Amongst themselves, and did their labours share. 

To helpe faire Pastorella home to drive 

Her fleecie flocke ; but Coridon most helpe did give. 

But Melibee (so hight that good old man) 

"Now seeing Calidore left all alone. 

And night arrived hard at hand, began 

Him to invite unto his simple home ; 

Which though it were a cottage clad with lome. 

And all things therein meane, yet better so 

To lodge then in the salvage fields to rome. 

The knight full gladly soone agreed thereto. 

Being hia harts owub, wish; and home with him did go. 



THE PAEEIE QtTEENE. 735 

There he was welcom'd of that honest syra 
And of his ap^ed beldame homely well; 
Who him besourfit bimselfe to disattyre. 
And rest bimselfe, till supper time befell; 
By which home came the fayrest Pastorell, 
After her flocke she in their fold had tyde ; 
And, supper readie dight, they to it fell 
With small adoe, and nature satisfyde. 
The which doth litle crave contented to abydo. 

Tho W'hen they had their hunger slaked well. 

And the fay re mayd tbe table ta'ne away; 

The gentle knight, as he that did excell 

In courtesie and well could doe and say, 

For so great kindnesse as he found that day 

Gan greatly thanke his host and his good wifo; 

And, drawing thence his speach another way, 

Gan highly to commend the happie life 

A'N hich shepheards lead, without debate or bitter strife. 

" How much," sayd he, " more happie is the state 

In which ye, father, here doe dwell at ease, 

Leading a life so free and fortunate 

From all the tempests of these worldly seas. 

Which tosse the rest in daungerous disease; 

Where warres, and wTeckes, and wicked enmitie 

Poe them afflict, which no man can appease! 

That certes I your happinesse en vie, 

And wish my lot were plast in such felicitie !** 

** Surely, my sonne," then answer'd he againe, 
" If happie ; then it is in this intent. 
That having small yet doe I not complaine 
Of want, ne wish for more it to augment, 
But doe myselfe, with that I have, content ; 
So taught of nature, which doth litle need 
Of forreine helpes to lifes due nourishment: 
The fields my food, my flocke my rayment breed; 
No better doe I weare, no better doe I feed. 

"Therefore I doe not any one envy, 

ISor am envyde of any one therefore : 

They, that have mucli, feare much to loose thereby. 

And store of cares doth follow riches store. 

The litle that I have growes dayly more 

"W^ithouc my care, but onely to attend it ; 

My lambes doe every ycare increase their score. 

And my flockcs father daily doth amend it. 

What iiave I, but to praise th' Almighty that doth send it! 



736 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

" To tliem, tliat list, the worlds gay sliowes I leave, 

And to great ones sucli follies doe forgive ; 

Which oft through pride do their owne per ill weave. 

And through ambition downe themselves doe drive 

To sad deca}', that might ccfntented live. 

Me no such cares nor combrous thoughts offend, 

Ne once my minds unmoved quiet grieve ; 

But all the night in silver sleepe I spend, 

And all the day, to what I list, I doe attend. 

" Sometimes I hunt the fox, the vowed foe 

Unto my lambes, and him dislodge away; 

Sometime the fawne I practise from tlie doe. 

Or from the goat her kidde, how to convay ; 

Another while I baytes and nets display 

The birds to catch or fishes to beguyle; 

And when I wearie am, I downe doe lay 

My limbes in every shade to rest from toyle; [l^ovle. 

And drinke of every brooke, when thirst my throtc doLh 

" The time was once, in my first prime of yeares, 
"When pride of youth forth pricked my desire. 
That I disdain'd among mine equall peares 
To follow sheepe and shepheards base attire ; 
For further fortune then I would inquire : 
And, leaving home, to roiall court I sought. 
Where I did sell myselfe for yearely hire. 
And in the princes gardin daily wrought : 
There I beheld such vainesse as I never thought. 

" With sight whereof soone cloyd, and long deluded 

With idle hopes which them doe entertaine. 

After I had ten yeares myselfe excluded 

From native home, and spent my youth in vaine, 

I gan my folHes to myselfe to plaine, , 

And this sweet peace, whose lacke did then appeare : 

Tho, backe returning to my sheepe again e, 

I from thenceforth have learn'd to love more dear© 

This lowly quiet life which I inherit e here." 

Whylest thus he talkt, the knight with greedy eare 

Hong still upon his melting mouth attent ; 

Whose sensefull words empierst his hart so neare, 

That he was wrapt with double ravishment. 

Both of his speach that wrought him great content, 

And also of the obiect of his vew, 

On which his hungry eye was alwayes bent ; 

That twixt his x)leasing tongue, and her faire hew, 

lie lost himselfe, and fike one halfe-entraunced gre^« 



THE FAEBIE QTTEENB. ^Sl 

Yet to occasion meanes to worke Ms mind. 
And to insinuate liis harts desire. 
He thus replyde ; " Now surely, syre, I find, 
That all this worlds gay showes, which we admire^ 
Be but vaine shadows to this safe retyre 
Of life, which here in lowlinesse ye lead, 
Fearelesse of foes, or fortunes wrackfull yre. 
Which tosseth states, and under foot doth tread 
The mightie ones affrayd of every chaunges dred» 

" That even I, which daily doe behold 

The glorie of the great mongst whom I won, 

And now have prov'd what happinesse ye hold 

In this small plot of your dominion, ^ 

Now loath great lordship and ambition ; 

And wish the heavens so much had graced mee^ 

As graunt me live in like condition ; 

Or that my fortunes might transposed bee 

From pitch of higher place unto this low degree." 

" In vaine," said then old Melibee, " doe men 

The heavens of their fortunes fault accuse ; 

Sith they know best what is the best for them: 

For they to each such fortune doe difiuse, 

As they doe know each can most aptly use. 

For not that, which men covet most, is best ; 

Nor that thing worst, which men do most refuse; 

But fittest is, that all contented rest 

With that they hold ; each hath his fortune in his brest; 

"It is the mynd, that maketh good or ill. 
That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore: 
For some, that hath abundance at his will, 
Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store; 
And other, that hath litle, asks no more, 
But in that litle is both rich and wise ; 
For wisedome is most riches : fooles therefore 
They are, which fortunes doe by vowes devize ? 
Sith each unto himselfe his life may fortunize." 

" Since then in each mans self," s^id Calidorfe, 

" It is to fashion his owne lyfes estate, 

Give leave awhyle, good father, in this shore 

To rest my barcke, which hath bene beaten late 

With stormes of fortune and tempestuous fatei 

In seas of troubles and of toylesome paine ; 

That, whether quite from them for to retrate 

I shall resolve or backe to turne againe, 

I may here with yourselfe eome small repose obtaine. 



738 THE FAEEIE QXTEENB. 

*' Not tliat tlie burden of so bold a guest 

Shall chargefull be, or cbaunge to you at all ; 

For your meane food shall be my daily feast, • 

And this your cabin both my bowre and hall; 

Besides, for recompence hereof, I shall 

You well reward, and golden guerdon give. 

That may perhaps you better much withall. 

And in this quiet make you safer live." 

So forth he drew much gold, and toward him it drive. 

But the good man, nought tempted with the offer 

Of his rich mould, did thrust it farre away, 

And thus bespake ; "Sir knight, your bounteous proffer 

Be farre fro me, to whom ye ill displaj'- 

That mucky masse, the cause of mens decay. 

That mote empaire my peace with daungers dread: 

But, if ye algates covet to assay 

This simple sort of life that shepheards lead, 

Be it your owne: our rudenesse to yourselfe aread/' 

So there that night Sir Calidore did dwell, ^ 
And long while after, whilest him list remaine, 
Payly beholding the faire Pastorell, 
And feeding on the bayt of his owne bane : 
During which time he did her entertaine 
With all kind courtesies he could invent ; 
And every day, her companie to gaine, 
When to the field she went, he with her went : 
So for to quench his fire he did it more augment. 

But she that never had acquainted beene 

With such quient usage, fit for queens and kings, 

IN'e ever had such knightly service scene ; 

But, being bred under base shepheards wings. 

Had ever learn'd to love the lowly things; 

Did litle whit regard his courteous guize. 

But cared more for Colins carolings 

Then all that he could doe, or e'er devize; 

His layes, his loves, his lookes, she did them all despize. 

Wliicli Calidore perceiving:, thought it best 

To chaunge the manner ot his loftie looke ; 

And doffing his bright arries himselfe addrest 

In shepheards weed ; and in his hand he tooke. 

Instead of steele-head speare, a shex)hcards hooke ; 

That who had scene him then, would have bethought 

On Phrygian Paris by Plexippus brooke, 

When he the love of fayrc Benonc sought, 

What time the golden apple was unto iiim brought. 



THE FAERIE QTTEENB. 739 

So being clad unto the fields he went 

With the faire Pastorella every day. 

And kept her slieepe with diUgent attent, 

Watching to drive the ravenous wolfe away, 

The whyjest at pleasure she mote sport and play; 

And every evening helping them to fold : 

And otherwhiles, for need, he did assay 

In his strong hand their rugged teats to hold, 

And out of them to presse the milke : Love so much could. 

Which seeing Coridon, who her likewise 

Long time had lov*d, and hop'd her love to gaine, 

He much was troubled at that straungers guize. 

And many gealous thoughts conceiv'd in vaine. 

That this of all his labour and long paine 

Should reap the harvest ere it ripened were ; 

That made him scoule, and pout, and oft complaine 

Of Pastorell to all the shepheards there, . 

That she did love a stranger swayne then him more dero. 

And ever, when he came in companie 
Where Calidore was present, he would loure 
And byte his lip, and even for gealousie 
Was readie oft his owne hart to devoure, 
Impatient of any paramoure : 
Who on the other side did seeme so farre 
From malicing, or grudging his good houre, 
TJiat, all he could, he graced him with her, 
Ne ever shewed signe of rancour or of iarre. 

And oft, when Coridon unto her brought 

Or litle sparrowes stolen from their nest, 

Or wanton squirrels in the woods farre sought, 

Or other daintie thing for her addrest, 

He would commend his guift, and make the best: 

Yet she no whit his presents did regard, 

No him could find to fancie in her brest : 

This new-come sheplieard had his market mard. 

Old love is litle worth when new is more prefard. 

One day, whenas the shepheard swaynes together 
Were met to make their sports and merrie glee, 
A s they are wont in faire sunsliy nie weather. 
The whiles their flockes in sbadowes shrouded beei 
TKcy fell to cjaunce : tlien did they all agree 
That Colin Clout should pipe, as one most fit; 
And Calidore should lead the ring, as hee 
That most in Pastorcllacs grace did sit: 
Thereat frown'd Coridon, and his lip closely bit. 



740 THE FAEEIE QTTEEITB. 

Bui Calidqre, of courteous inclmation, 

Tooke Goridon and set liim in his place. 

That he should lead the daunce, as Tras his fashion; 

For Goridon could daunce, and trimly trace; 

And whenas Pastorella, him to grace. 

Her flowry garlond tooke from her owne head. 

And plast on his, he did it soone displace. 

And did it put on Coridons instead : 

Then Goridon woxe froUicke, that earst seemed dead. 

Another time, whenas they did dispose 

To practise games and maisteries to try. 

They for their iudge did Pastorella chose; 

A garland was the meed of victory : 

There Goridon, forth stepping, openly 

Pid chalenge Calidore to wrestling game 5 

Por he, through long and perfect industry. 

Therein well practi^d was, and in the same ^ [shame. 

Thought sure t'avenge his grudge, and worke his foe great 

Eut Galidore he greatly did mistake ; 

Por he was strong and mightily stiffe pight. 

That with one fall his necke he almost brake 5 

And, had he not upon him fallen light. 

His dearest ioynt he sure had broken quight. 

Then was the oaken crowne by Pastorell 

Given to Galidore as his due right ; 

Put he, that did in courtesie excell, 

Gave it to Goridon, and said he wonne it well. 

Thus did the gentle knight himselfe abeare 

Amongst that rusticke rout in all his deeds. 

That even they, the which his rivals were. 

Could not nialigne him, but commend him needs: 

Por courtesie amongst the rudest breeds 

Good will and favour : so it surely wrought 

With this faire mayd, and in her mynde the seeds 

Of perfect love did sow, that last forth brought 

The fruite of ioy and blisse, though long time dearely boughL 

Thus Galidore continu'd there long time 
To pinne the love of the faire Pastorell ; 
"Which having got, he used without crime 
Or blamefull blot ; but menaged so well. 
That he, of all the rest which there did dwell. 
Was favoured and to her grace commended : 
Put what straunge fortunes unto him befell. 
Ere he attain'd the point by him intended, 
Shall more conveniently in other place be ended. 



SQE FAEBIE QUEENS, ^O- 



CANTO X. 

Catidore sees the graces daunce 

To Colins melody: 
The whiles his Pastorell is led 

Into captivity". 

Who now does follow tlie foule blatant beast, 

Whilest Calidore does follow that faire mayd, 

Unmyndfull of his vow, and high beheast 

Which by the Faery Queene was on him layd. 

That he should never leave, nor be delayd 

From chacing him, till he had it attchieved ? • 

But now, entrapt of Love which him betrayd. 

He mindeth more how he may be relieved [grieved. 

With grace from her, whose love his heart hath sore ea* 

That from henceforth he meanes no more to sew 

His former quest, so full of toile and paine ; 

Another quest, another game in vew 

He hath, the guerdon of his love to gaine ; 

With whom he myndes for ever to remaine. 

And set his rest amongst the rusticke sort, 

Hather then hunt still after shadowes value 

Of courtly favour fed with light report 

Of every blaste, and sayling alwaies in the portt 

Ne certes mote he greatly blamed be 
From so high step to stoupe unto so low; 
For who had tasted once, as oft did he. 
The happy peace which there doth overflow. 
And prov'd the perfect pleasures which doe grow 
Amongst poore hyndes, in hils, in woods, in dales ; 
Would never more delight in painted show 
Of such false blisse, as there is set for stales 
T' entrap unwary fooles in their eternall bales. 

For what hath all that goodly glorious gaze 

Like to one sight which Calidore did vew? 

The glaunce whereof their dimmed eies would daze. 

That never more they should endure the shew 

Of that sunne- shine, that makes them lookc askew, 

Ne ought, in all that world of beauties rare, 

(Save onely Glorianaes heavenly hew, 

To which what can compare ?) can it compare ; 

The which, as commeth now by course, I will declare. 



742 THE FAEEIE QTJEENE. 

One doy, as he did rauuge the fields ahroad, 
"Whilest his faire Pastorella was elsewhere, 
He chaunst to come, far from all peoples troad. 
Unto a place, whose plcasaunce did appere 
To passe all others on the earth which were : 
For all that ever was by Nature's skill 
Deviz'd to worke delight was gathered there ; 
And there by her were poured forth at fill, 
As if, this to adorne, she all the rest did pill. 

It was an hill plaste in an open plaine, 

That round about was bordered with a wood 

Of matchlesse higlit, that seem'd th' earth to disdains | 

In which all trees of honour stately stood, 

And did all winter as in sommer bud, 

Spredding pavilions for the birds to bowre. 

Which in their lower braunches sung aloud ; 

And in their tops the soring hauke did towre, 

Sitting like king of fowles in maiesty and powre : 

And at the foote thereof a gentle flud. 
His silver waves did softly tumble downe, 
Unmard with ragged mosse or filthy mud ; 
Ne mote wylde beastes, ne mote the ruder clowne 
Thereto approch ; ne filth mote therein drowne : 
33ut nymphes and faeries by the bancks did sit 
In the woods shade which did the waters crowne. 
Keeping all noysome things away from it. 
And to the waters fall tuning their accents fit. 

And on the top thereof a spacious plaine 

Hid spred itselfe, to serve to all delight. 

Either to daunce, when they to daunce would faiae 

Or else to course-about their bases light ; 

Ne ought there wanted, which for pleasure might 

Hesired be, or thence to banish bale : 

So pleasauntly the hill with equall hight 

Hid seeme to overlooke the lowly vale ; 

Therefore it rightly cleeped was Mount Acidale. 

They say that Yenus, when she did dispose 

Herselfe to pleasaunce, used to resort 

Unto this place, and therein to repose 

And rest herselfe as in a gladsome port, 

Or with the graces there to play and sport ; 

That even her owne Cytheron, though in it 

She used most to keepe her royall court 

And in her soveraine majesty to sit. 

She in regard hereof refusde and thought unfit* 



THE FAEEIE QITEENB. t4S 

Unto this place whenas tlie elfin knight 

Approcht, him seemed that the merry sound 

Of a shrill pipe he playing heard on i light, 

And many feete fast thumping th' hollow ground, 

Tiiat through the woods their eccho did rebound!. ^ 

He nigher drew, to weete what mote it be : 

There he a troupe of ladies dauncing found 

Full merrily, and making gladfull glee. 

And in the midst a shepheard piping he did see. 

He durst not enter into th' open greene. 
For dread of them unwares to be descry de. 
For breaking of their daunce, if he were seenej 
But in the covert of the wood did byde, 
Beholding all, yet of them unespyde : ^ 
There he did see, that pleased much his sight. 
That even he himselfe his eyes envyde, 
An hundred naked maidens lilly white 
Ail raunged in a ring, and dauncing in delight. 

All they without were raunged in a ring. 

And daunced round ; but in the midst of them 

Three other ladies did both daunce and sing, 

The whiles t the rest them round about did hemme. 

And like a girlond did in compasse stemme; 

And in the middest of those same three was placed 

Another damzell, as a precious gen<ne. 

Amidst a ring most richly well enchaced, 

That with her goodly presence all the rest much graced. 

Looke ! how the crowne, which Ariadne wore 

Upon her yvory forehead that same day 

That Theseus her unto his bridale bore. 

When the bold Centaures made that bloudy fray 

"With the fierce Lapithes which did them dismay ; 

Being now placed in the firmament. 

Through the bright heaven doth her beams display; 

And is unto the starres an ornament. 

Which ojDund about her move in order excellent. 

Such was the beauty of this goodly band, 

Whose sundry parts were here too long to tell : 

But she, that in the midst of them did stand, 

Seem'd all the rest in beauty to excell, 

Crownd with a rosie girlond that right well 

Did her beseeme : and ever, as the crew 

About her daunst, sweet flowres that far did smell 

And fragrant odours they uppon her threw ; 

But, most of all, those three did her with gifts endew. 



744 THE PAERIE QUEENB. 

Tiiose were the Graces, daughters of delight, 
Handmaides of Venus, which are wont to haunt 
Uppom this hill, and daunce there day and night: 
Those three to men all gifts of grace do graunti 
An(J all, that Venus in herself doth vaunt. 
Is borrowed of them : hut that faire one. 
That in the midst was placed paravaunt, 
"Was she to whom that shepheard pypt alone ; 
That made him pipe so merrily, as never none. 

She was, to weete, that iolly shepheards lasse, 
AVhich piped there unto that merry rout ; 
That iolly shepheard, which there piped, was 
Poore Colin Glout, (who knows not Colin Clout P) 
He pypt apace, whilest they him daunst about. 
Pype, iolly shepheard, pype*thou now apace 
Unto thy love that made thee low to lout ; 
Thy love is present there with thee in place ; 
Thy love is there advaunst to be another grace. 

Much W9ndred Calidore at this straunge sight. 

Whose like before his eye had never scene ; 

And standing long astonished in spright, 

And rapt with pleasaunce, wist not what to weene j 

Whether it were the traine of beauties queene. 

Or nymphes, or faeries, or enchaunted show ; 

With which his eyes meie have deluded beene. 

Therefore, resolving what it was to know, 

Out of the wood he rose, and toward them did go, 

But, soone as he appeared to their vew. 

They vanisht all away out of his sight, 

And cleane were gone, which way he never knew. 

All save the shepheard, who, for feR despight 

Of that displeasure, broke his bag-pipe quight. 

And made great mono for that unhappy turne : 

But Calidore, though no lesse sory wight 

For that mishap, yet seeing him to mourne. 

Drew neare, that he the truth of all by him mote le;^rnej 

And, first him greeting, thus unto him spake ; 

•* Haile, iolly shepheard, which thy ioyous dayes 

Here leadest in this goodly merry-make. 

Frequented of these gentle nymphes alwayes. 

Which to thee flocke to heare thy lovely layes ! 

Tell me what mote these dainty damzels be. 

Which here with thee doe make their pleasant playes ; 

Right happy thou, that mayest them freely see ! 

But why, when I them saw, fled they away from me?*' 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 745 

" ISTot I SO happy," answerd then that swaine, 

"As thou unhappy, which them thence didst chace. 

Whom by no meanes thou canst recall againe ; 

For, being gone, none can thena bring in place. 

But whom they of themselves list so to grace." 

** Kight sorry I," saide then Sir Calidore, 

" That my ill-fortune did them hence displace : 

But since things passed none may now restore. 

Tell me what were they all, whose lacke thee grieves so soro.** 

Tho gan that shepheard thus for to dilate ; 

" Then wote, thou shepheard, whatsoe'er thou bee. 

That all those ladies which thou sawest late. 

Are Venus damzels, all within her fee. 

But differing in honour and degree ; 

They all are graces which on her depend ; 

Besides a thousand more which ready bee 

Her to adorne, whenso she forth doth wend ; 

But those three in the midst, doe chiefe on her attend. 

" They are the daughters of sky-ruling love. 

By him begot of faire Eurynome, 

The Oceans daughter, in this pleasant grove. 

As he, this way comming from feastful glee 

Of Thetis wedding with Aecidee, 

In sommers shade himselfe here rested weary. 

The first of them hight mylde Euphrosyne, 

Next faire Aglaia, last Thalia merry ; 

Sweete goddesses all three, which me in mirth do cherry I 

" These three on men all gracious gifts bestow. 
Which decke the body or adorne the mynde. 
To make them lovely or well-favoured show ; 
As comely carriage, entertainment kinde, 
Sweete semblaunt, friendly offices that bynde. 
And all the complements of curtesie : 
They teach us, how to each degree and kynde 
We should ourselves demeane, to low, to hie, 
To friends, to foes ; which skill men caU civility. 

" Therefore they alwaies smoothly seeine to smile. 

That we likewise should mylde and gentle be ; 

And also naked are, that without guile 

Or false dissemblaunce all them plaine may see. 

Simple and true from covert malice free ; 

And eeke themselves so in their daunce they bore. 

That two of them still froward seem'd to bee, 

But one still towards shew'd hcrselfe afore ; 

That good should from us goe, then come in greater blore. 



746 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

" kSiich were those goddesses wliicli ye did see : 

I3ut that fourth mayd, which there amidst them traced. 

Who can aread what creature mote siie bee. 

Whether a creature, or a goddesse graced 

With heavenly gifts from lieven first enraced ! 

But whatso sure she was, she worthy was 

To be the fourth with those three other placed : 

Yet was she certes but a countrcy lasse ; 

Yet she all other countrey lasses farre did passe: 

" So farre, as doth the daughter of the day 
All other lesser hghts in light excell ; 
So farre doth she in beautyfuU array 
Above all other lasses beare the bell ; 
IN'e lesse in vertue that beseemes her well 
Doth she exceede the rest of all her race ; 
For which the graces, that here wont to- dwell. 
Have »for more honor brought her to this place. 
And graced her so much to be another grace. 

" Another grace she well deserves to be. 
In whom so many graces gathered are, 
Excelling much the meane of her degree ; 
Divine resemblaunce, beauty soveraine rare, 
Firme chastity, that spight ne blemish dare I 
All which she with such courtesie doth grace. 
That all her peres cannot with her compare, 
But quite are dimmed when she is in place : 
She made me often pipe, and now to pipe apaoe. 

*' Sunne of the world, great glory of the sky. 

That all the earth doest lighten with thy rayes. 

Great Gloriana, greatest majesty ! 

Pardon tliy Shepheard, mon^^st so many layes 

As he hath sung of thee in all his dayes. 

To make one minime of thy poore handmayd, 

And underneath thy feete to place her prayse,- 

That, when thy glory shall be farre displayd 

To future age, of her this mention may be made !** 

Wlien thus that shepheard ended had his speacli, 
Sayd Calidore : " Now sure it yrketh mee. 
That to thy blisse I made this lucklesse breach. 
As now the author of thy bale to be. 
Thus to bereave thy loves deare sight from theei 
But, gentle shepheard, pardon thou my shame. 
Who rashly sought that which I mote not see." 
Thus did the courteous knight excuse his blame. 
And to recomfort him all comely meanes did framflb 



THE FAEEIE QUEENB. 747 

In sucli discourses they together spent 

Long time, as fit occasion forth them led ; 

With which the knight himselfe did much content. 

And with deUght his greedy fancy fed 

Both of his words, which he with reason red. 

And also of the place, whose pleasures rare 

With such regard his scnccs ravished, 

That thence he had no will away to fare. 

But wisht that with that shepheard he motedwelhng share. 

But that envenimd sting, the which of yore 

His poysnous point deepe fixed in his hart 

Had left, now gan afresh to rancle sore, 

And to renue the rigour of his smart ; 

Which to recure, no skill of leaches art 

Mote him availe, but to returne againe 

To his wounds worker, that with lovely dart 

Dinting his brest had bred his restlesse paine ; 

Like as the wounded whale to shore flies from the maino. 

So, taking leave of that same gentle swaine. 
He backe returned to his rusticke wonne. 
Where his faire Pastorella did remaine : , 
To wliome in sort, as he at first begonne. 
He daily did apply himselfe to donne 
All dewfull service, voide of thoughts impure j 
Ne any paines ne perill did he shonne, 
By which he might her to his love allure, 
And liking in her yet untamed heart procure. 

And evermore the shepheard. Coridon, 

Whatever thing he did her to aggrate. 

Did strive to match with strong contention. 

And all his paines did closely emulate; 

Whether it were to car oil, as they sate 

Keeping their sheepe, or games to exercize. 

Or to present her with their labours late :^ 

Through which if any grace chaunst to arize 

To him, the shepheard straight with iealousie did frize. 

One day, as they all three together went 
Td the greene wood to gather strawberies, 
There chaunst to them a dangerous accident : 
A tigre forth out of the wood did rise, 
That with fell clawes full of fierce gourmandize. 
And greedy mouth wide-gaping like hell-gate. 
Did runne at Pastorell her to surprize ; 
Whom she beholding, now all desolate, 
Gan cry to them aloud to helpe her all too late. 



748 THE FAEEIE QUEENB, 

WKicli Coridon first hearing, ran in hast 

To reskue her ; but, when he saw' the feend, 

Through cowherd feare he fled away as fast, 

Ne durst abide the daunger of the end; 

His hfe he steemed dearer then his frend : 

But Cahdore soone comming to her ayde. 

When he the beast saw ready now to rend 

His loves deare spoile, in which his heart was prayde. 

He ran at him enraged, instead of being frayde. 

He had no weapon but his shepheards hooke 

To serve the vengeaunce of his wrathfull will ; 

With which so sternely he the monster strooke. 

That to the ground astonished he fell ; 

Whence ere he could recou'r, he did him quell. 

And hewing off his head, it presented 

Before the feete of the faire Pas tor ell ; 

Who, scarcely yet from former feare exempted, 

A thousand times him thankt that had her death preveatecL 

From that day forth she gan him to affect. 

And daily more her favour to augment ; 

But Coridon for cowherdize reiect. 

Fit to keepe sheepe, unfit for loves content : 

The gentle heart scornes base disparagement. 

Yet Calidore did not despise him quight, 

But usde him friendly for further intent. 

That by his fellowship he colour might 

Both his estate and love from skill of any wight 

So well he wood her, and so well he wrought her. 

With humble service, and with daily sute. 

That at the last unto his will he brought her ; 

Which he so wisely well did prosecute, 

That of his love he reapt the timely frute, 

And ioyed long in close felicity: 

Till Fortune, fraught with malice, blinde and brute. 

That envies lovers long prosperity. 

Blew up a bitter storme of ioule adversity. 

It fortuned one day, when Cahdore ^ , 

Was hunting in the woods, as was his trade, 

A lawlesse people, brigants hight of yore, 

That never usde to live by plough nor spade, 

But fed on spoile and booty which they made 

Upon their neighbours, which did nigh them border. 

The dwelling of these shepheards did invade ; 

And spoyld their houses, and themselves did murder. 

And drove away their flocks : with other much disordd*. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 749 

Amongst the rest, the which they then did pray. 
They spoyld old Mehbee of all he had, 
And all his people captive led away ; 
Mongst which this lucklesse mayd away was lad, 
Faire Pastorella, sorrowfull and sad, 
Most sorrowfull, most sad, that ever sigh't. 
Now made the spoile of theeves and brigants bad. 
Which was the conquest of the gentlest knight 
That ever liv'd, and th' onely glory of his might. 

With them also was taken Coridon, 

And carried captive by those theeves away ; 

Who in the covert of the night, that none 

Mote them descry, nor reskue from their pray. 

Unto their dwelling did them close convay: 

Their dwelHng in a little island was,^ 

Covered with shrubby woods, in which no way 

Appeared for people in nor out to pas 

Nor any footing lynde for overgrowen gras : 

For underneath the ground their way was made 
Through hollow caves, that no man mote discover 
For the thicke shrubs, which did them alwaies shado 
From view of living wight and covered over ; 
But Darknesse dred and daily Night did hover 
Through all the inner parts, wherein they dwelt; 
Ne lightned was with window, nor with lover. 
But with continual! candle light, which delt 
A doubtful! sense of thmgs, not so well seene as felt. 

Hither those brigants brought their present pray. 

And kept them with continual! watch and ward; 

Meaning, so soone as they convenient may. 

For slaves to sell them for no small reward 

To merchants, which them kept in bondage hard. 

Or sold againe. Now when faire Pastorell 

Into this place was brought, and kept with gard 

Of griesly theeves, she thought herself in hell,^ [dwell. 

Where with such damned fiends she should in darkncsso 

But for to tell the doleful! dreriment 

And pittifull complaints which there she made, 

gVhere day and night she nought did but lament 
er wretclied hfe shut up in deadly shade. 
And waste her goodly beauty, which did fade 
Like to a flowre that feelcs no heate of sunne 
Which may her feeble leaves with comfort glade ;) 
And what befell her in that theevish wonne 
Will in another canto better be begonne. 



750 THE FAEEIE QtrEEKB. 



CANTO XL 

The tlieeves fall out for Pastorel^ 

WJnlest Melibee is slain : 
Her Calidore from tliera redeemes. 

And bringetli backe againe. 

TiTE ioys of love, if tliey should ever last 

Without affliction or disquietnesse 

That worldly cliaunces doe amongst tliem cast. 

Would be on earth too great a blessednesse, 

Liker to heaven then mortall wretchednesse : 

Therefore the winged god, to let men weet 

That here on earth is no sure happinesse, 

A thousand sowres hath tempred with one sweet. 

To make it seeme more deare and dainty, as is meefc 

Like as is now befalne to this faire mayd, 

Faire Pastorell, of whom is now my song: 

Who being now in dreadfull darknesse layd 

Amongst those theeves, which her in bondage strong 

Detaynd; Yet Fortune, not with all this wrong 

Contented, greater mischiefe on her threw. 

And sorrowes heapt on her in greater throng ; 

That "v^ hoso heares her heavinesse, would rew 

And pitty her sad plight, so .chang'd from pleasaunt how. 

Whylest thus she in these hellish dens remayned. 
Wrapped in wretched cares and hearts unrest. 
It so befell, as Fortune had ordayned, 
That lie which was their capitaine profest, 
And had the chiefs commaund of all the rest. 
One day, as he did all his prisoners vew. 
With lustfull eyes beheld that lovely guest, 
Faire Pastorella, whose sad mournefull hew 
Like the faire morning clad in misty fog did shew. 

At sight whereof his barbarous heart was fired. 

And inly burnt with flames most raging whot. 

That her alone he for his part desired 

Of all the other pray which they had got, ^ 

And her in mynde did to himselfe allot. * 

From that day forth he kyndnesse to her showed. 

And sought her love by all the meanes he n ote; 

With looks, with words, with gifts he oft her wowed, 

And mixed threats among, and much unto her vowed. 



THE FAERIE QXTEENE. 761 

But all tliat ever he could doe or say 

Her constant mynd could not a whit remove, 

IN or draw unto the lure of his lewd lay. 

To graunt him favour or afford him love : 

Yet ceast he not to sew, and all waies prove. 

By which he mote accomplish his request. 

Saying and doing all that mote behove ; 

Ne day nor night he suffred her to rest, 

But her all night did watch, and all the day molest. 

At last, when him she so importune saw. 
Fearing least he at length the raines would lend. 
Unto his lust, and make his will his law, 
Sith in his powre she was to foe or friend ; 
She thought it best, for shadow, to pretend 
Some shew of favour, by him gracing small, 
That she thereby mote either freely wend, 
Or at more ease continue there his thrall : 
A little well is lent that gaineth more withall. 

So from thenceforth, when love he to her made. 

With better tearines she did him entertaine. 

Which gave him hope, and did him halfe perswade. 

That he in time her ioyance should obtaine : 

But when she saw, through that small favours gaine 

That further then she willing was he prest ; 

She found no meanes to barre him, but to faine 

A sodaine sickenesse which her sore opprest, 

And made unfit to serve his lawlesse mindcs behest. 

By meanes whereof she would not him permit 

Once to approach to her in privity. 

But onely mongst the rest by her to sit. 

Mourning the rigour of her malady, 

And seeking all things meete for remedy: 

But she resolv'd no remedy to fynde, 

Nor better clieare to shew in misery, 

Till Fortune would her captive bonds unbynde! 

Her sickenesse was not of the body but the mynde# 

During which space that she thus sicke did lie. 
It chaunst a sort of merchants, which were wount 
To skim those coastes for bondmen there to buy. 
And by such trafficke after gaincs to hunt 
Arrived in this isle, though bare and bliint, 
T* inquire for slaves ; where being readie met 
By some of these same thecves at th' instant brunts 
Were brought unto their captainc, who was set 
By his faire patients side with sorrowfull regret. 



752 THE FAERIE QTJEENE. 

To wliom tiiey sliewed, liow those marchants were 

Arriv'd in place their bondslaves for to buy ; 

And therefore pray 'd that those same captives there 

Mote to them for their most commodity 

Be sold, and mongst them shared equally. 

This theii' request the captaine much appalled; 

Yet could he not their iust demaund deny, 

And willed streight the slaves should forth be called. 

And sold for most advantage not to be forstalled. 

Then forth the good old Mehbee was brought. 

And Coridon with roany other moe, 

T^ hom they before in diverse spoyles had caught; 

All which he to the marchants sale did showe : 

Till some, which did the sundry prisoners knowe, 

Gan to -inquire for that faire shepherdesse. 

Which with the rest they tooke not long agoe ; 

And gan her forme and feature to expresse, 

The more t' augment her price through praise of comlinesse. 

To whom the captaine in full angry wize 

Made answere, that "the mayd of whom they spake 

Was his owne purchase and his onely prize ; 

With which none had to doe, ne ought partake, 

But he himselfe which did that conquest make ; 

Litle for him to have one silly lasse ; 

Besides through sicknesse now so wan and weake, 

That nothing meet in merchandise to passe :'* 

So shew'd them her, to prove how pale and weake she was. 

The sight of whom, though now decayd. and mard. 

And eke but hardly scene by candle-hght. 

Yet, like a diamond of rich regard, 

In doubtfull shadow of the darkesome night 

With starrie beames about her shining bright, 

These marchants fixed eyes did so amaze. 

That what through wonder, and what through delight^ 

A while on her they greedily did gaze. 

And did her greatly like, and did her gTcatly praize. 

At last when all the rest them offred were. 

And prises to them placed at their pleasure. 

They all refused in regard of her ; 

"Ne ought would buy, however prisd with measure, 

Withouten her, whose worth above all threasure 

They did esteeme, and ofired store of gold: _ 

But then the captaine, fraught with more displeasure. 

Bad them be still : '* his love should not be sold ; 

The rest take if they would ; he her to him would hold/ 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENB. 763 

Therewith some other of the chiefest theeves 

Boldly him bad such iniurie forbeare ; 

For that same mayd, however it him greeves. 

Should with the rest be sold before him theare. 

To make the prises of the rest more deare. 

That with great rage he stoutly doth denay ; 

And, fiercely drawing forth his blade, doth sweare 

That whoso' hardie hand on her doth lay, 

It dearely shall aby, and death for handsell pay. 

Tlius, as they words amongst them multiply, 

They fall to strokes the frute of too much talke 

And the mad Steele about doth fiercely fly, 

"Not sparing wight, ne leaving any balke, 

But making way for Death at large to walke ; 

Who, the horror of the griesly night. 

In thousand dreadful shapes doth mongst them stalke. 

And makes huge havocke ; whiles the candle-light 

Out-quenched leaves no skill nor difierence of wight. 

Like as a sort of hungry dogs, ymet 

About some carcase by the common way. 

Doe fall together, stryving each to get 

The greatest portion of the greedie pray ; 

All on confused heapes themselves assay. 

And snatch, and byte, and rend, and tug, and tearej 

That who them sees would wonder at their fray. 

And who sees not would be affrayd to heare : 

Such was the conflict of those cruell brigants there. 

But, first of all, their captives they doe kill. 

Least they should ioyne against the weaker side. 

Or rise against the remnant at their will : 

Old Melibee is slain e ; and him beside 

His aged wife ; with many others wide : 

But Coridon, escaping craftily, 

Creepes forth of dores, whilst darknes him doth hide. 

And flyes away as fast as he can hye, 

Ne stayeth leave to take before his friends doe dye. 

But Pastorella, wofull wretched elfe, 

Was by the captaine all this while defended, 

Who, minding more her safety then himself©, 

His target alwayes over her pretended ; 

"By meanes whereof, that mote not be amended, 

He at the length was slaine and layd on ground, 

Yet holding fast twixt both his armes extended 

Fay re Pastorell, who with the selfe same wound [s wound. 

Launcht through- the arme fell down with lam in drearie 



764 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

There lay slie covered with confused preasso 

Of carcases, which dying on her fell : 

Tho, whenas he was dead, the fray gan ceasse 5 

And each to other calling did compell 

To stay their cruell hands from slaughter fell, 

Sith they that were the cause of all were gone : 

Thereto they all attonce agreed well ; 

And, lighting candles new, gan search anone, 

How many of their friends were slaine, how many fone. 

Their captaine there they cruelly found kild. 

And in his armes the dreary dying mayd. 

Like a sweet angell twixt two clouds uphild; 

Her lovely hght was dimmed and decayd 

With cloud of death upon her eyes displayd ; 

Yet did the cloud make even that dimmed light 

Seeme much more lovely in that darknesse layd. 

And twixt the tT^inckling of her eye-lids bright 

To sparke out htle beames, like starres in foggie night. 

But, when they mov'd the carcases aside, 
They found that life did yet in her remaine ; 
Then all their helpes they busily applyde 
To call the soule backe to her home againe : 
And wrought so well, with labour and long paine. 
That they to life recovered her at last : 
Who, sighing sore, as if her hart in twaine 
Had riven bene and all her hart- strings brast, 
With drearie drouping eyne lookt up like one aghast. 

There she beheld, that sore her griev'd to see. 

Her father and her friends about her lying, 

Herselfe sole left a second spoyle to bee ^ 

Of those, that having saved her from dying 

Benew'd her death by timely death denying. 

What now is left her but to wayle and weepe, 

Wringing her hands, and ruefully loud crying! 

"Ne cared she her wounds in teares to steepe, 

Albe with all their might those brigants her did keepe. 

But when they saw her now reliv'd againe, 

They left her so, in charge of one, the best 

Of many worst, who with unkind disdaine 

And cruell rigour her did much molest ; 

Scarse yeelding her due food or timely rest. 

-And scarsely saffring her infestred wound, 

That sore her payn'd, by any to be drest. 

So leave we her in wretched thraldome bound. 

And turne w© backe to Calidore, where we him found. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 755 

Who wlien lie backe returned from tlie wood, 

And saw bis sbepbeards cottage spoyled quigbt. 

And bis love reft away ; be wexed wood 

And balfe enraged at that ruefull sight ; 

That even bis hart, for very fell despighfc. 

And bis owne flesh be readie was to teare : 

He cbauft, be griev'd, be fretted, and be sigb't. 

And fared like a furious wyld beare. 

Whose wbelpes are stolne away, she being otherwhere. 

Ne wight he found to whom he might eomplaine, 
Ne wight be found of whom be might inquire ; 
That more increast the anguish of bis paine : 
He sought the woods, but no man could see there ; 
He sought the plaines, but could no tidings beare : 
The woods did nought but ecchoes vaine rebound ; 
The playnes all waste and emptie did appeare ; 
Where wont the sheplieards oft their pypes resound, 
And feed an hundred flocks, there now not one be found. 

At last,- as there be romed up and downe. 
He chaunst one coming towards him to spy, 
That seem'd to be some sorie simple clowne. 
With ragged weedes, and lockes upstaring bye. 
As if be did from some late daunger fly. 
And yet bis feare did follow him bebynd : 
Who as be unto him approached nye. 
He mote perceive, by signes which he did fynd. 
That Coridon it was, the silly sbepbeards bynd. 

Tho, to him running fast, be did not stay 

To greet him first, l3ut askt where were the rest. 

Where Pastorell ?— who full of fresh dismay. 

And gushing forth in teares, was so opprest, 

That be no word could speake, but smit bis brest. 

And up to heaven bis eyes fast-streming threw : 

Whereat the knight amaz'd, yet did not rest. 

But askt againe, What ment that rufull hew ; 

Where was bis Pastorell ? Where all the other crew ? 

" Ah ! well away," sayd he, then sighing sore, 

" That ever I did live tliis day to see. 

This dismall day, and was not dead before. 

Before I saw faire Pastorella dye !" 

" Die ! out alas I" then Calidore did cry, 

** How could the death dare ever her to quell 

But read thou, Shepheard, read what destiny 

Or other dyrefull bap from lieaven or bell 

Hath wrought this wicked deed : doe feare away, and tell.' 



756 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 

Tlio, when the sliepheard breathed had awhyle. 

He thus began; "Where shall I then commenco 

This wofull tale ? or how those brigants vyle 

With cruell rage and dreadfull violence 

Spoyld all our cots, and caried us from hence; 

Or how faire PastoreU should have bene sold 

To marchants, but was say'd with strong defence ; 

Or how those theeves, whilest one sought her to hold 

Fell all at ods, and fought through fury fierce and boJd. 

** In that same conflict (woe is me !) befell 

This fatall chaunce, this dolefull accident, 

Whose heavy tydings now I have to tell. 

First all the captives, which they here had hent. 

Were by them slaine by general! consent; 

Old Mehbee and his good wife withall 

These eyes saw die, and dearely did lament 

But, when the lot to Pastorell did fall, 

Their Captaine long withstood, and did her death forstall. 

*' But what could he gainst all them doe alone ? 

It could not boot ; needs mote she die at last ! 

I onely scapt through great confusione 

Of cryes and clamors, which amongst them past, 

In dreadfull darknesse, dreadfully aghast ; 

That better were with them to have bene dead, 

Then here to see aU desolate and wast, 

Pespoyled of those ioyes and iollyhead, 

Which with those gentle shepheards here I wont to lead." 

When Cahdore these ruefull newes had raught, 

His hart quite deaded was with anguish great. 

And all his wits with doole were nigh distraught, 

That he is face, his head, his brest did beat. 

And death itselfe unto himselfe did threat; 

Oft cursing th' heavens, that so cruell were . 

To her, whose name he often did repeat ; 

And wishing oft, that he were present there 

When she was slaine, or had bene to her succour nere. 

But after griefe awhile had had his course. 

And spent itselfe in mourning, he at last 

Began to mitigate his swelling sourse, 

And in his mind with better reason cast 

How he might save her life, if life did last ; 

Or, if that dead, how he her death might wreake ; 

Sith otherwise he could not mend thing past ; 

Or, if it to revenge he were too weake. 

Then for to die with her, and his lives threed to breake. 




±P-y.L t 



'And 'twixt them both, with parted palnes, did beare, 
Twixt life and death, not knowing what was donne, ' 
Thence they him carried to a castle neare." 

Book VL Canto XI. Ver. 48 



THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 757 

Tho Coridon he prayd, sith lie well knew 

The readie way unto that theevish wonne. 

To wend with him, and be his conduct trew 

Unto the place, to see what should be donne : 

But he, whose hart through feare was late fordonne^ 

Would not for ought be drawne to former drede ; 

But by all meanes the daunger knowne did shonne : 

Yet Cahdore so well him wrought with meed. 

And faire bespoke with words, that he at last agreed. 

So forth they goe together (God before) 

Both clad in shepheards weeds agreeably. 

And both with shepheards hookes ; but Calidore 

Had, underneath, him armed privily : 

Tho, to the place when they approached nye. 

They chaunst, upon an hill not farre away. 

Some flockes of sheepe and shepheards to espy; 

To whom they both agreed to take their way. 

In hope there newes to learne, how they mote best assay. 

There did they find, that which they did not feare. 
The self-same flocks the which those theeves had reft 
From Melibee and from themselves whyleare ; 
And certaine of the theeves there by them left. 
The which, for want of heards, themselves then kept ; 
Right well knew Coridon his owne late sheepe. 
And, seeing them, for tender pittie wept : 
But, when he saw the theeves which did them keepe, 
His hart gan fayle, albe he saw them all asleepe. 

But Calidore recomforting his griefe. 

Though not his feare ; for nought may feare diss wade; 

Him hardly forward drew, whereas the thiefe 

Laying sleeping soundly in the bushes shade. 

Whom Coridon him counseld to invade 

JTow all unwares, and take the spoyle away ; 

But he, that in his mind had closely made 

A further purpose, would not so them slay. 

But gently waking them gave them the time of day. 

Tho, sitting downe by them upon the greene. 
Of sundrie things he purpose gan to faine, 
That he by them might certaine tydings weeno 
Of Pastorell, were she ahve or slaine : ^ 
Mongst which the theeves them questioned againe, 
What mister men, and eke from whence they were. 
To whom they answer'd, as did appertaine, 
That they were poore heardgroomes, the which wliylero 
Had from their maisters fled, and now sought hyre elsewhere, 
33 



758 THE FAEEIE QXTEENE. 

Whereof riglit glad tliey seem'd, and offer made 
To liyre them well if they their flockes would kcepe : 
For they themselves were evill groomes, tliey sa3^d, 
Unwont with heards to watch or pasture sheepe. 
But to forray the land, or scoure the deepe. 
Thereto they soone agreed, and earnest tooke 
To keepe their flockes for litle hyre and chepe ; 
For they for better hyre did shortly looke : 
So there all day they bode, tiU light the sky forsooke, 

Tho, whenas towards darksome night it drew, 
Unto their hellish dens those theeves them brought. 
Where shortly they in great acquaintance grew. 
And all the secrets of their entrayles sought: 
There did they find, contrarie to their thought. 
That Pastorell yet lived ; but aU the rest 
Were dead, right so as Coridon had taught ; 
Whereof they both full glad and blyth did rest. 
But chiefly CaHdore, whom griefe had most possest. 

At length, when they occasion fittest found, 

In dead of night, when all the theeves did rest 

After a late forray, and slept full sound. 

Sir Calidore him arm'd, as he thought best ; 

Having of late by diligent inquest 

Provided him a sword of meanest sort ; 

With which he streight went to the captaines nest: 

But Coridon durst not with him consort, 

Ne durst abide behind for dread of worse efibrt. 

When to the cave they canae, they found it fast 
But Calidore with huge resistlesse might 
The dores assayled, and the locks up brast : 
With noyse whereof the theefe awaking light 
Unto the entrance ran ; where the bold Knight 
Encountering him with smaU resistence slew: 
The whiles faire Pastorell through great affright 
Was almost dead, misdoubting least of new 
Some uprore were like that which lately she did vew. 

But whenas Calidore was comen in. 

And gan aloud for Pastorell to call. 

Knowing his voice, although not heard long sin. 

She sudden was revived therewithal!. 

And wondrous ioy felt in her spirits thrall : 

Like him that being long in tempest tost. 

Looking each houre into Deathes mouth to fall. 

At length espyes at hand the happie cost. 

On which he safety hopes that earst feared to be lost. 



THB FAEEIE QTTEENE. 759 

Her gentle hart, tliat now long season past 

Had never ioyance felt nor cliearefull thought, 

Began some smacke of comfort new to tast, 

Like lyfefol heat to nummed senses brought, 

And life to feele that long for death had sought. 

!N"e lesse in hart reioyced Calidore, 

When he her found ; but, like to one distraught 

And robd of reason, towards her him bore ; 

A thousand times embrast, and kist a thousand more. 

But now by this, with noyse of late uprore, 
The hue and cry was raysed all about ; 
And all the brigants flocking in great store 
Unto the cave gan preasse, nought having doubt 
Of that was doen, and entered in a rout. 
But Calidore in th' entry close did stand, 
And, entertayning them with courage stout. 
Still slew the formost that came first to hand ; 
So long, till all the entry was with bodies mand. 

Tho, when no more could nigh to him approch, 
He breath'd his sword, and rested him till day ; 
Which when he spyde upon the earth t* encroch. 
Through the dead carcases he made his way, 
Mongst which he found a sword of better say, 
With which he forth went into th' open light, 
Where all the rest for him did readie stay. 
And, fierce assayhng him, with all their might 
Gan all upon him lay : there gan a dreadfull fight. 

How many flyes in whottest summers day 

Do seize upon some beast, whose flesh is bare, 

That all the place with swarmes do overlay. 

And with their litle stings right felly fare ; 

So many theeves about him swarming are. 

All which do him assayle on every side. 

And sore oppresse, ne any him doth spare ; 

But he doth with his raging brond divide 

Their thickest troups, and round about him scattreth wide. 

Like as a lion mongst an heard of dere, 
Disperseth them to catch his choysest pray; 
So did he fly amongst them here and there, 
And all that nere him came did hew and slay. 
Till he had strowd with bodies all the way ; 
That none his daunger daring to abide 
Fled from his wrath, and did themselves convay 
Into their caves, their heads from death to hide, 
Ne any left that victorie to him envide. 



THE FAERIE QtTEEITE. 

Then, bacte returning to his clearest deare, 

He her gan to recomfort, all he might, 

With gladfull speaches and with lovely cheare ; 

And forth her bringing to the ioyous light, 

Whereof she long had lackt the wishfull sight, 

Deviz'd all goodly meanes from her to drive 

The sad remembrance of her wretched phght : 

So her uneath at last he did revive 

That long had lyen dead, and made againe alive. 

This doen, into those theevish dens he went. 

And thence did all the spoyles and threasures take, 

Which they from many long had robd and rent : 

But fortune now the victors meed did make ; 

Of which the best he did his love betake ; 

And also all those flockes, which they before 

Had reft from Mehbee and from his make. 

He did them all to Coridon restore : 

So drove them aU. away, and his love with him bore* 



CAiTTO xn. 

Fa3rr8 Pastorella by great hap 

Her parents understands. 
Calidore doth the blatant beast 

Subdew, and bynd in bands. 

Like as a ship, that through the ocean wyde 
Directs her course imto one certaine cost. 
It met of many a counter winde and tyde, 
With which her winged speed is let and crost, 
And she herselfe in stormie surges tost ; 
Yet, making many a borde and many a bay. 
Still winneth way, ne hath her compasse lost ; 
Hight so it fares with me in this long way, 
Whose course is often stayd, yet never is astray, 

Por all that hetherto hath long delayd 

This gentle knight from sewing his first quest. 

Though out of course, yet hath not bene mis-sayd^ 

To shew the courtesie by him profest 

Even unto the lowest and the least. ^ 

But now I come into my course againe, 

To his atchievement of the blatant beast ; 

Wlio all this while at will did range and raine. 

Whilst none was him to stop, nor none him to restrame. 



THE FAERIE QTTEENE. 761 

Sir Calidore, wlien tlius lie now had rauglit 
Faire Pastorella from those brigants powre. 
Unto the Castle of Belgard her brought, 
Whereof was lord the good Sir Bellamoure; 
Who whylome was, in his youthes freshest flowre, 
A lustie knight as ever wielded speare. 
And had endured many a dreadfull stoure 
In bloudy battell for a ladie deare. 
The fayrest ladie then of all that living were. 

Her name was Claribell; whose father hight 

The lord of many ilands, farre renound 

For his great riches and his greater might : 

He, tlirough the wealth wherein he did abound, 

This daughter thought in wedlocke to have bound 

Unto the Prince of Picteland, bordering nere ; 

But she, whose sides before with secret wound 

Of love to Bellamoure empierced were. 

By allmeanes shund to match with any forreign fere: 

And Bellamour againe so well her pleased 
With dayly service and attendance dew. 
That of her love he was entyrely seized, 
And closely did her wed, but knowne to few : 
Which when her father understood, he grew 
In so great rage that them in dongeon deep© 
Without compassion cruelly he threw ; 
Yet did so streightly them asunder keepe, 
That neither could to company of th' other creepe* 

Nathlesse Sir Bellamour, whethgr through grace 
Or secret guifts, so with his keepers wrought, 
That to his love sometimes he came in place ; 
Whereof her wombe unwist to wight was fraught, 
And in dew time a may den child forth brought: 
Which she streightway (for dread least if her syro 
Should know thereof to slay he would have sought) 
Delivered to her handmayd, that for hyre 
She should it cause be fostred under straunge attyro. 

The trustie damzell bearing it abrode 

Into the emptie fields, where living wight 

Mote not bewray the seeret of her lode. 

She forth gan lay unto the open light 

The litle babe, to take thereof a sight : 

Whom whylest she did with watrie eyne behold. 

Upon the litle brest, like christall bright, 

She mote perceive a little purple mold. 

That like a rose her silken leaves did faire unfold. 



762 THE FAESIE QTTEENS. 

"Well slie it markt, and pittied the more, 
Yet could not remedie lier wretched case ; 
But, closing it againe like as before, 
Bedeaw'd with teares there left it in the place ; 
Yet leffc not quite, but drew a little space 
Behind the bushes, where she her did hyde, 
To weet what mortall hand, or heavens grace. 
Would for the wretched infants helpe provyde ; 
For which it loudly cald, and pittifally cryde. 

At length a shepheard, which thereby did keepe 
His fleecie flocke upon the playnes around. 
Led with the infants cry that loud did weepe. 
Came to the place ; where when he wrapped found 
Th' abandond spoyle, he softly it unbound ; 
And, seeing there that did him pittie sore, 
He tooke it up and in his mantle wound ; 
So home unto his honest wife it bore. 
Who as her owne it nurst and named evermore. 

Thus long continued Claribell a thrall. 
And Bellamour in bands ; till that her syro 
Departed life, and left unto them all : 
Then all the stormes of fortunes forrner yre 
Were turnd, and they to freedome did retyre. 
Thenceforth they ioy'd in happiinesse together. 
And lived long in peace and love ent3Te, 
Without disquiet or disHke of ether, 
Till time that Calidore brought Pastorella thether^ 

Both whom they goodly wejl did eatertaine 5 

For Bellamour knew Calidore right well. 

And loved for his prowesse, sith they twaine 

Long since had fought m field : als Claribell 

Ne lesse did tender the faire Pastorell, 

Seeing her weake and wan through durance long. 

There they awhile together thus did dwell 

In much dehght, and many ioyes among, 

Untill the damzell gan to wex more sound and strong. 

Tho gan Sir Calidore him to advize 

Of his first quest, which he had long forlore, 

Asham'd to thinke how he that enterprize, 

The which the Faery Queene had long afore 

Bequeath'd to him, forslacked had so sore ; 

That much he feared least reproachfull blame 

With foule dishonour him mote blot therefore; 

Besides the losse of so much loos and fame, 

As through the world thereby should glorifie his name. 



THE FAEEIB QUEENB. 763 

Therefore, resolving to returne in hasfc 

Unto so great atcliievement, lie bethouglit 

To leave his love, now perill being past. 

With Claribell; whylest he that monster sought 

Throughout the world, and to destruction brought. 

So taking leave of his faire Pastorell, 

Whom to recomfort all the meanes he wrought. 

With thanks to Bellamour and Claribell, 

He went forth on his quest, and did that him befell. 

But first, ere I doe his adventures tell 
In this exploite, me needeth to declare 
What did betide to the faire Pastorell, 
During his absence left in heavy care, 
Through daily mourning and nightly misfare i 
Yet did that auncient matrone all she might, 
To cherish her with all things choice and rare ; 
And her owne handmayd, that Melissa hight. 
Appointed to attend her dewly day and night. 

Who in a morning, when this maiden fairs 

Was dighting her, having her snowy brest 

As yet not laced, nor her golden haire 

Into their comely tresses dewly drest, 

Chaunst to espy upon her yvory chest 

The rosie marke, which she remembred well 

That litle infant had, which forth she kest, 

The daughter of her Lady Claribell, 

The which she bore the whiles in prison she did dwell, 

Wliich well avising, streight she gan to cast 

In her conceiptfull mynd that this faire mayd 

Was that same infant, which so long sith past 

She in the open fields had loosely layd 

To fortunes spoile, unable it to ayd : 

So, full of ioy, streight forth she ran in hast 

Unto her mistresse, being lialfe dismay d. 

To tell her, how the heavens had her grastc. 

To save her chylde, which in misfortunes mouth was plustc. 

The sober mother seeing such her mood, 

Yet knowing not what meant that sodaino thro, 

Askt her, how mote her words be understood. 

And what the matter was that mov'd her so. 

" My liefe," sayd she, " ye know that long ygo, 

Whilest ye in durance dwelt, ye to me gave 

A little mayde, the which ye chyldcd tho ; 

The same againe if now ye list to have. 

The same is yonder lady, whom High God did save.** 



76 THE FAEEIB QTTEEITB. 

Miieli was tlie lady troubled at tliat speach. 

And gan to question streiglit Jiow she it knew. 

" Most certaine markes," sayd slie, " do me it teaclii 

For on her breast I with these eyes did vew 

The little purple rose which thereon grew, 

Whereof her name ye then to her did give, 

Besides, her countenaunce and her likely hew, 

IMatehed with equall years, do surely prieve 

That yond same is your daughter sure, which yet doth hve/* 

The matrone stayd no lenger to enquire. 

But forth in hast ran to the straunger mayd ; 

Whom catching greedily, for great desire 

Eent up her brest, and bosome open layd. 

In which that rose she plainely saw displayd : 

Then, her embracing twixt her armes twaine, 

So long so held, and softly weeping sayd ; 

"And lives t thou, my daughter, now againe? 

And art thou yet alive, whom dead I long did faineP" 

Tho further asking her of sundry things, 

And times comparing with their accidents. 

She found at last, by very certaine signes 

And speaking markes of passed monuments. 

That this young mayd, whom chance to her presents, " 

Is her owne daughter, her owne infant deare. 

Tho, wondring long at those so straunge events, 

A thousand times she her embraced nere. 

With many a ioyfull kisse and many a melting teare. 

Whoever is the mother of one chylde, 

WTiich having thought long dead she fyndes alive. 

Let her by proofe of that which she hath fylde 

In her owne breast, this mothers ioy descrive : 

For other none sueh passion can contrive 

In perfect forme, as this good lady felt,^ 

When she so faire a daughter saw survive. 

As Pastorella was ; that nigli she swelt 

For passing ioy, which did all into pitty meU. 

Thence running forth unto her loved lord. 
She imto him recounted all that fell : 
Who, ioyning ioy with her in one accord, 
Acknowledg'd, for his owne, faire Pastorell. 
There leave we them in ioy, and let us tell 
Of Calidore ; who, seeking all this while 
That monstrous beast by finall force to quell. 
Through every place with restlesse paine and toile 
Hhn follow'd by the tract of his outragious spoile. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 765 

Through all estates he found that he had past. 

In which he many massacres had left, 

And to the clergy now was come at last ; 

In which such spoil e, such havocke, and such theft 

He wrought, that thence all goodnesse he bereft 

That endlesse were to tell. The elfin knight, 

Who now no place besides unsought had left. 

At length into a monastere did light. 

Where he him fo^nd despoyling all with maine and might. 

Into their cloysters now he broken had, 
Through which the monckes he chaced here and there, 
And them pursu'd into their dortours sad. 
And searched all their eels and secrets neare ; 
In which what filth and ordure did appeare, 
Were yrkesome to report; yet that foule beast, 
Nought sparing them, the more did tosse and tear©, 
And ransacke all their dennes from most to least, 
Eegarding nought religion nor their holy heast. 

Prom thence into the sacred church he broke, 

And robd the chancell, and the deskes downe threw. 

And altars fouled, and blasphemy spoke. 

And the images, for all their goodly hew, 

Did cast to ground, whilest none was them to rew ; 

So all confounded and disordered there : 

Eut, seeing Calidore, away he flew. 

Knowing his fatall hand by former feare ; 

But he him fast pursuing soone approached neare. 

Him in a narrow place he overtooke, 
And fierce assailing forst him turne againe : 
Sternely he turnd againe, when he him strooke 
With his sharpe Steele, and ran at him amaine 
With open mouth, that seemed to containe 
A full good pecke within the utmost brim, 
All set with yron teeth in raunges twaine, 
That terrifide his foes, and armed him. 
Appearing like the mouth of Orcus griesly grim : 

And therein were a thousand tongs empight 

Of sundry kindes and sundry quality ; 

Some were of dogs, that barked day and night ; 

And some of cats, that wrawling still did cry ; 

And some of bcares, that groynd continually; 

And some of tygres, that did seeme to gren 

And snar at all that ever passed by : 

But most of them were tongues of mortall men. 

Which flpake reproachfully, not caring where nor when. 



766 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

And tliem amongst were mingled here and tliere 

Tlie tongues of serpents, with three-forked stings. 

That spat out poyson, and gore-bloudy gere. 

At all that came within his ravenings ; 

And spake licentious words and hatefull things 

Of good and bad alike, of low and hie, 

Ne kesars spared he a whit nor kings 5 

But either blotted them with infamie. 

Or bit them with his banefull teeth of imury. 

But Calidore, thereof no whit afraj^d, 
Eencountred him with so impetuous might, 
That th' outrage of his violence he stayd. 
And bet abacke threatning in vaine to bite. 
And spitting forth the poyson of his spight 
That fomed all about his bloody iawes : 
Tho, rearing up his former feete on hight, 
He rampt upon him with his ravenous pawes. 
As if he would have rent him with his cruell clawes: 

But he right well aware, his rage to ward, 

Did cast his shield atweene ; and, therewithal! 

Putting his puissaunce forth, pursu'd so hard, 

That backeward he enforced him to fall ; 

And, being downe, ere he new helpe could call, 

His shield he on him threw, and fast downe held; 

Like as a bullocke, that in bloudy stall 

Of butchers balefull hand to ground is feld. 

Is forcibly kept downe, till he be throughly queld. 

Full cruelly the beast did rage and rore 

To be downe held, and maystred so with might. 

That he gan fret and fome out bloudy gore. 

Striving in vaine to rere himself upright : 

For still, the more he strove, the more the knight 

Did him suppress e, and forcibly subdew ; 

That made him almost mad for fell despight : 

He grind, he bit, he scracht, he venim threWj 

And fared like a feend right horrible in hew: 

Or like the hell-borne hydra, which they faine 

That great Alcides whilome overthrew. 

After that he had labourd long in vaine 

To crop his thousand heads, the which still new 

Forth budded, and in greater number grew. 

Such was the fury of this heUish beast, 

Whilest Calidore him under him downe threw ; 

Who nathemore his heavy load releast, 

But aye, the more he rag*d, the more his po^vre increast. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 767 

Tlio, when the heast saw he mote nought availe 

By force, he gan his hundred tongues apply. 

And sharpely at him to revile and raile 

With bitter termes of shameful! infamy; 

Oft interlacing many a forged lie, 

Whose like he never once did speake, nor heare. 

Nor ever thought thing so unworthily: 

Yet did he nought, for all that, him forbeare, 

But strained him so streightly that he chokt him neare. 

At last, whenas he found his force to shrincke 

And rage to quail e, he tooke a muzzle strong 

Of surest yron made with many a lincke ; 

Therewith he mured up his mouth along. 

And therein shut up his blasphemous tong, 

Por never more defaming gentle knight. 

Or unto lovely lady doing wrong : 

And thereunto a great long chaine he tight. 

With which he drew him forth, even in his own despight. 

Like as whylome that strong Tirynthian swaine 

Brought forthwith him the dreadfull dog of hell, 

Against his will fast bound in yron chaine. 

And roring horribly did him compell 

To see the hatefuU sunne, that he might tell 

To griesly Pluto, what on earth was donne. 

And to the other damned ghosts which dwell 

For aye in darkenesse which day -light doth shonne : 

So led this knight his captyve with like conquest wonne. 

Yet greatly did the beast repine at those 

Straunge bands, whose like till then he never bore, 

!N"e ever any durst till then impose ; 

And chauffed inly, seeing now no more 

Him liberty was left aloud to rore : 

Yet durst he not draw backe, nor once withstand 

The proved powre of noble Cahdore; 

But trembled underneath his mightie hand. 

And like a fearefull dog him followed through the land. 

Him through all Faery land he followed so. 

As if he learned had obedience long. 

That all the people, whereso he did go. 

Out of their townes did round about him throng. 

To see him leade that beast in bondage strong ; 

And seeing it, much wonder'd at the sight : 

And all such persons, as he earst did wrong, 

Beioyced much to see his captive plight, 

And muck admyr'd the beast, but more admyr*d the knight. 



768 THE FAEBIE QUEENE. 

Thus was this monster, by the maystring might 
Of doughty Cahdore, supprest and tamed, 
That never more he mote endammadge wight 
With his vile tongue, which many had defamed. 
And many causelesse caused to be blamed : 
So did he eeke long after this remaine, 
Untill that, (whether wicked fate so framed 
Or fault of men,) he broke his yron chaine. 
And got into the world at liberty againe. 

Thenceforth more mischiefe and more scath he wrought 39 

To mortall men than he had done before 5 

Ne ever could, by any, more be brought 

Into like bands, ne maystred any more : 

Albe that, long time after Calidore, 

The good Sir Pelleas him tooke in hand; 

And after him Sir Lamoracke of yore ; 

And all his brethren borne in Britaine land ; 

Yet none of them could ever bring him into band. 

So now he raungeth through the world againe^ 
And rageth sore in each degree and state ; 
Ne any is that may him now restraine. 
He growen is so great and strong of late, 
Barking and biting all that him doe bate, 
Albe they worthy blame, or cleare of crime; 
Ne spareth he most learned wits to rate, 
Ne spareth he the gentle poets rime ; 
But rends, without regard of person or of time. 

Ne may this homely verse, of many meanest, 

Hope to escape his venemous despite. 

More than my former writs, all were they cleanest 

From blamefull blot, and free from all that wite 

With which some wicked tongues did it backebite. 

And bring into a mighty peres displeasure. 

That never so deserved to endite ; 

Therefore do you, my rimes, keep better measure, 

And seeke to pleajse ; tbat now is counted wise men threasure. 



TWO CANTOS 

OF MUTABILITIE: 

WHICH, BOTH FOR FORME AND MATTEIl^ 

AFPEABE TO BE PAECELL OP SOME FOLLOWING BOOKE OF 

THE FAERIE QUEENE, 

UJTDEE 

W)t ICegentf of ^onztmcic. 



CANTO YI. 

Proud Change (not pleasd in mortall things 

Beneath the moone to raigne) 
Pretends, as well of gods as men. 

To be the soveraine. 

WHAT man that sees the ever-whirling wheele 
Of Change, the which all mortall things doth sway. 
But that thereby doth find, and plainly feele. 
How Mutability in them doth play 
Her cruell sports to many mens decay ? 
Which that to all may better yet appeare, 
I will rehearse, that whylome I heard say. 
How she at first herselfe began to reare [beare. 

Gainst all the gods, and th* empire sought firom them tc 

But first, here falleth fittest to unfold 

Her antique race and linage ancient. 

As I have found it registred of old 

In Faery land mongst records permanent. 

She was, to weet, a daughter by descent 

Of those old Titans that did whylome strive 

With Saturnes sonne for heavens regiment ; 

Whom though high love of kingdome did deprive. 

Yet many of their stemme long after did suy viv© : 

And many of them afterwards obtain*d 

Great power of love, and high authority: 

As Hecate, in whose almighty hand 

He placet all rule and principality. 

To be by her disposed diversly 

To gods and men, as she them list divide ; 

And drad Bellona, that doth sound on hie 

WaiTes and allarums unto nations wide, 

That makes both heaven and earth to tremble at ]icr pride. 



770 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

So likewise did tliis Titanesse aspire 
Rule and dominion to lierselfe to gaine ; 
That as a goddesse men might her admire. 
And heavenly honours yield, as to them twaine; 
And first, on earth she sought it to obtaine ; 
Where she such proofe and sad examples shewed 
Of her great power, to many ones great paine, 
That not men onely (whom she soone subdewed) 
Eut eke all other creatures her bad dooings rewed. 

For she the face of earthly things so changed. 

That all which Nature had establisht first, 

In good estate, and in meet order ranged. 

She did pervert, and all their statutes burst : 

And all the worlds faire frame (which none yet dursfc 

Of gods or men to alter or misguide) 

She alter'd quite ; and made them all accurst 

That God had blest, and did at first provide 

In that still happy state for ever to abide. 

'Ne shee the lawes of N'ature onely brake, 

But eke of iustice, and of policie ; 

And wrong of right, and bad of good did make. 

And death for life exchanged foolishlie : 

Since which, all living wights have learned to die. 

And all this world is woxen daily worse. 

O pittious worke of Mutabilitie, 

"By which we all are subiect to that curse, 

And death, instead of life, have sucked from our nurse! 

And now, when all the earth she thus had brought 
To her behest and thralled to her might. 
She gan to cast in her ambitious thought 
T' attempt the empire of the heavens hight, 
And love himselfe to shoulder from his right. 
And first, she past the region of the ayre 
And of the fire, whose substance thin and slight 
Made no resistance, ne could her contraire, 
But ready to her pleasure did prepaire. 

Thence to the circle of the moone she clambe, 
Where Cynthia raignes in everlasting glory, 
To whose bright shining palace straight she came, 
All fairely deckt with heavens goodly story; 
Whose silver gates (by which there sate an hory 
Old aged sire, with howre-glasse in hand, 
Hight Tyme,) she entered, were he liefe or sory ; 
JSTe staide till she the highest stage had scand, 
Wliere Cynthia did sit, that never still did stani 



TH^ FAEEIE QUEENE. 771 

Her sitting on an ivory throne sliee found, 
D ra wne of two steeds, tli' one black, the other white, 
Euviron'd with tenne thousand starres around, 
That duly her attended day and night ; 
And by her side there ran a page, that hight 
Vesper, whom we the evening-starre intend ; 
That with his torche, still twinkling like twy light 
Her lightened all the way where she would wend 
And ioy to weary wandering travellers did lend : 

That when the hardy Titanesse beheld 
The goodly building of her palace bright, 
Made of the heavens substance, and up -held. 
With thousand crystall pillors of huge hight ; 
Shee gan to burne in her ambitious spright 
And t' envie her that in such glorie raigned. 
Eftsoones she cast by force and tortious might 
Her to displace, and to herselfe t' have gained 
The kingdome of the night, and waters by her wained. 

Boldly she bid the goddesse downe descend, 

And let herselfe into that ivory throne ; 

For she herselfe more worthy thereof wend, 

And better able it to guide alone ; 

Whether to men whose fall she did bemone, 

Or unto gods whose state she did maligne. 

Or to th' infernall powers her need give lone 

Of her faire light and bounty most benigne, 

Herselfe of all that rule shce deemed most condigne. 

But shee that had to her that soveraigne seat 

By highest love assign'd, therein to beare 

Nights burning lamp, regarded not her threat, 

Ne yielded ought for favour or for feare ; 

But, with sterno countenance and disdainfull cheare, 

Bending her horned browes, did put her back; 

And, boldly blaming her for coming there. 

Bade her attonce from heavens cost to pack, 

Or at her perill bide the wrathfull thunders wrack. 

Yet nathemore the giantesse forbare ; 

But boldly preacing on, raught forth her hand 

To pluck her downe perforce from off her chaire ; 

And, there- with lifting up her golden wand. 

Threatened to strike her if she did with-stand : 

Whereat the starres, which round about her blazed. 

And eke the moones bright wagon still did stand, 

AH beeing with so bold attempt amazed, 

Aud on her uncouth habit and sterno looko still ga^ed. 



772 THE FAEEIE <JUEENE. 

Meanwliile tlie lower world, whicli notliing knew 
Of all that chaunced here, was darkened quite; 
And eke the heavens, and all the heavenly crew 
Of happy wights, now unpurvaide of light. 
Were much afraid and wondred at that sights 
Pearing lest Chaos broken had his chain e. 
And brought againe on them eternall night ; i 

But chiefly^ Mercury, that next doth raigoe, 
Ean forth in haste unto the king of gods to plaine 

All ran together with a great out-cry 

To loves faire palace fixt in heaven's hight j 

And, beating at his gates full earnestly, 

Gan call to him aloud with all their might, 

To know what meant that suddaine lack of light. 

The father of the gods, when this he heard, 

Was troubled much at their so strange affright, 

Doubting least Typhon were againe uprear'd. 

Or other his old foes that once him sorely fear'd. 

Eftsoones the sonne of Male forth he sent 

Downe to the circle of the moone, to knowe 

The cause of this so strange astonishment. 

And why shee did her wonted course forslowe ; 

And, if that any were on earth belowe 

That did with charmes or magick her molest, 

Him to attache, and down to hell to thro we; 

But if from heaven it were, then to arrest 

The author, and him bring before his presence prest. 

The wingd-foot god so fast his plumes did beat. 
That soon he came whereas the Titanesse 
Was striving with faire Cynthia for her seat ; 
At whose strange sivht and haught}^ hardinesso 
He wondred much, and feared her no lesse : 
Yet, laying feare aside to doe his charge, 
At last he bade her, with bold stedfastnesse, 
Ceasse to molest the moone to walke at large. 
Or come before high love her dooings to discharge. 

And therewithall he on her shoulder laid 

His snaky- wreathed mace, whose awfull power 

Doth make both gods and hellish fiends affraid : 

Whereat the Titanesse did sternely lower. 

And stoutly answer'd ; That in evHl hower 

He from his love such message to her brought. 

To bid her leave faire Cynthias silver bower ; 

Sith shee his love and him esteemed nought, 

I^o more then Cynthias selfe j but all their kingdoms sought. 



THE FAERTE QUEENE. 773 

The heavens herald staid not to reply. 

But past away, his doings to relate 

Unto his lord ; who now, in th' highest sky. 

Was placed in his prineipall estate. 

With all the gods about him congregate : 

To whom when Hermes had his message told. 

It did them all exceedingly amate. 

Save love ; who changing nought his count'nance bold. 

Did unto them at length these speeches wise unfold. 

*' Harken to mee awhile, ye heavenly powers ? 
Ye may remember since th' earths cursed seed 
Sought to assaile the heavens eternall towers. 
And to us all exceeding feare did breed ; 
But, how we then defeated all their deed, 
Yee all doe know, and them destroied quite ; 
Yet not so quite, but that there did succeed 
. An off-spring of their bloud, which did alite 
Upon the fruitful! earth, which doth us yet despite, 

" Of that bad seed is this bold woman bred. 
That now with bold presumption doth aspire 
To thrust faire PhcBbe from her silver bed,^ 
And eke ourselves from heavens high empire. 
If that her might were match to her desire : 
Wherefore it now behoves us to advise 
What way is best to drive her to retire ; 
Whether by open force, or counsell wise : 
Ajreed, ye sonnes of God, as best ye can devise.'* 

So having said, he ceast ; and with his brow 

(His black eye-brow, whose doomefuU dreaded beck 

Is wont to wield the world unto his vow. 

And even the highest powers of heaven to check,) 

Made signe to them in their degrees to speake : 

Who straight gan cast their counsell grave and wise. 

Mennewhile th' earths daughter, though she nought did reck 

Of Hermes message, yet gan now advise 

What course were best to take in this hot bold emprize. 

Effcsoones she thus resolv'd ; that whil'st the gods 

(After returne of Hermes embassie) 

Were troubled, and amongst themselves at ods ; 

Before they could new counsells re-alhe. 

To set upon them in that extasie. 

And take what fortune, time, and place would lend: 

So forth she rose, and through the purest sky 

To loves high palace straight cast to ascend. 

To prosecute her plot : good onset boads good end. 



774 ' THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

Sliee there arriving boldly in did pass ; 

Where all the gods she found in counSell close. 

All quite unarmed;, as then her manner was. 

At sight of her they suddaine all arose 

In great amaze, ne wist what way to chose : 

But love, all fearlesse, forc't them to aby ; ^ 

And in his soveraine throne gan straight dispose 

Himselfe, more full of grace and m.aicstie, 

That mote encheare his friends, and foes mote terrifie. 

That when the haughty^ Titanesse beheld, 

All were she fraught with pride and impudence, 

Yet with the sight thereof was almost queld ; 

And, inly quaking, seem'd as reft of sense 

And voyd of speech in that drad audience ; 

tJntill that love himselfe herselfe bespake ; 

" Speake, thou fraile woman, speake with confidence ; 

Whence art thou, and what doost thou here now mnlo? 

What idle errand hast thou earths mansion to forsako ?" 

Shee, half e. confused with his great commaund, 

Yet gathering spirit of her natures pride, 

Him boldly answer'd thus to his demaund ; 

**I am a daughter, by the mothers side, 

Of her that is grand-mother magnifide 

Of all the gods, great Earth, great Chaos child : 

But by the fathers, be it not envide, 

I greater am in bloud, whereon I build, 

Then all the gods, though wrongfully from heaven exll'd. 

"Por Titan, as ye all acknowledge must, 

Was Saturnes elder brother by birth-^ight ; 

Both sonnes of Uranus ; but by uniust 

And guilefull meanes, through Corybantes slight, 

The younger thrust the elder from his right : 

Since which thou, love, iniuriously hast held 

The heavens rule from Titans sonnes by might ; 

And them to hellish dungeons downe hast fold : 

Witnesse, ye heavens, the truth of all that I have tcld !'* 

Whil'st she thus spake, the gods that gave good care 

To her bold words, and marked well her grace, 

(Beeing of stature tall as any there 

Of all the gods, and beautifull of face 

As any of the goddesses in place,) 

Stood all astonied ; like a sort of stecres, 

Mongst whom some beast of strange and forraine race 

TJnwares is chaunc't, far straying from his peercs : 

So did their ghastly gaze bewray their hidden feares. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE. 775 

Till, having pauz'd awhile, love thus bespalce, 
*^ Will never mortall thoughts cease to aspire 
In this bold sort to heaven claime to make, 
And touch celestiall seates with earthly mire ? 
I would have thought that bold Procrustes hire. 
Or Typhons fall, or proud Ixions paine 
Or great Prometheus tasteing of our ire, 
Would have suffiz'd the rest for to restraine, 
And warn'd all men, by their example, to refraine ; 

" But now this off-scum of that cursed fry 
Dare to renew the like bold enterprize, ^ 
And chalenge th' heritage of this our skie ; 
Whom what should hinder, but that we likewise 
Should handle as the rest of her allies. 
And thunder- drive to hell ?" With that he shook© 
His nectar-deawed locks, with which the skyes 
And all the world beneath for terror quooke, 
And eft his burning levin-brond in hand he tooke. 

But when he looked on her lovely face, 

In which faire beames of beauty did appeare 

That could the greatest wrath soone turne to grace, 

(Such sway doth beauty even in heaven beare,) 

He staide liis hand ; and, having chang'd his chearo. 

He thus againe in milder wise began ; 

" But ah ! if gods should strive with flesh yfere 

Then shortly should the progeny of man 

Be rooted out, if love should doe still what he can* 

"But thee, faire Titans child, I rather weene, 
Through some vaine errour, or inducement light. 
To see that mortall eyes have never seene ; 
Or through ensample of thy sisters might, 
Bellona, whose great, glory thou doost spight, 
Since thou hast seene her dreadfull power belowe: 
• Mongst wretched men, dismaide with her allriglit. 
To bandie crownes, and kingdoms to bcstowc : 
And sure thy worth no lesse then hers doth seem to showa. 

" But wote thou this, thou hardy Titanesse, 
That not the worth of any living wight 
May challenge ought in heavens interesse ; 
Much lesse the title of old Titans right :^ 
!For we by conquest, of our soveraine might, 
And by eternall doome of Fates decree. 
Have wonne the empire of the heavens briglit; 
Which to ourselves we hold, and to whom wee 
Shall worthy deemo partakers of our blisso to bee. 



776 THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

"Tlien ceasse thy idle claime, thou foolish gerle; 

And seeke by grace and goodnesse to obtaine 

That place, from which by folly Titan fell ; 

Thereto thou maist perhaps, if so thou faine, 

Have love thy gracious lord and soveraigne." 

So having said, she thus to him replyde ; 

** Ceasse, Saturnes sonne, to seeke by proffers vaine 

Of idle hopes t' alliire mee to thy side,^ 

For to betray my right before I have it tride. 

" But thee, O love, no equal iudge I deeme 

Of my desert, or of my dewfuU right ; 

That in thine owne behalfe maist partial! seeme; 

But to the highest him, that is behight 

Father of gods and men by equall might, 

To weet, the god of Nature, I appeale." 

Thereat love ^exed wroth, and in his spright 

Did inly grudge, yet did it weU conceale ; 

And bade Pan Phoebus scribe her appellation seale. 

Eftsoones the time and place appointed were. 
Where all, both heavenly powers and earthly wights. 
Before great ISTatures presence should appeare, 
For triall of their titles and best rights : 
That was, to weet, upon the highest hights 
Of Arlo-hill (who knowes not Arlo-hill?) 
That is the highest head, in all mens sights, 
Of my old father Mole, whom Shepheards quill 
Henowmed hath with hymnes fit for a rurall skill. 

And, were it not ill fitting for this file 

To sing of hilles and woods mongst warres and knights, 

1 would abate the sternenesse of my stile, 

Mongst these sterne stounds to mingle soft delights j 

And tell how Arlo, through Dianaes spights, 

(Beeing of old the best and fairest hill 

That was in all this Holy-Islands hights,) ^ 

Was made the most unpleasant and most ill : 

Meane while, O Clio, lend Calliope thy quilL 

Whylome when Ireland florished in fame 

Of wealth and goodnesse, far above the rest 

Of all that beare the British Islands name. 

The gods. then used, for pleasure and for rest. 

Oft to resort thereto, when seem'd them best : 

But none of all therein more pleasure found 

Then Cynthia, that is soveraine queene profest 

Of woods and forrests, which therein abound. 

Sprinkled with wholsom waters more then most on ground : 



THE FjLEEIE qtteenb, 777 

But mongst tliem all, as fittest for Iier game, 

(Either for chace of beasts with hound or bowe. 

Or for to shroude in shade from Phoebus flame, 

Or bathe in fountaines that doe freshly flowe 

Or from high hilles, or from the dales belowe,) 

She chose this Arlo ; where shee did resort 

With all her nymphes enranged on a rowe, ^ 

With whom the woody gods did oft consort ; 

For with the nymphes the satyres love to play and sport: 

Amongst the which there was a nymph that hight 
Molanna : daughter of old Father Mole, 
And sister unto Mulla faire and bright : 
Unto whose bed false Bregog whylome stole 
That Shepheard Colin dearely did condole. 
And made her lucklesse loves well knowne to bes 
But this Molanna, were she not so shole. 
Were no lesse faire and beautifull then shee : 
Yet, as she is, a fairer flood may no man see. 

For first she springs out of two marble rocks, 

On which a grove of oakes high-mounted growes 

That as a girlond seemes to deck the locks 

Of some faire bride, brought forth with pompous showea 

Oat of her bowre, that many flowers strowes ; 

So through the flowry dales she tumbling downe 

Through many woods and shady coverts flowes 

That on each side her silver channell crowne. 

Till to the plaine she come, whose valleyes shee drowne. 

In her sweet streames Diana used oft. 
After her sweatie chace and toilesome play, 
To bathe herselfe ; and, after, on the soft 
And downy grasse her dainty limbes to lay 
In covert shade, where none behold her may, 
For much she hated sight of living eye : 
Foolish god Faunus, though full many a day 
He saw her clad, yet longed foolishly 
To see her naked mongst her nymphes in privity. 

"No way he found to compasse his desire, 

But to corrupt Molanna, this her maid. 

Her to discover for some secret hire : 

So her with flattering words he first assaid ; 

And, after, pleasing gifts for her purvaid, 

Queene-apples, and red cherries from the tree, 

With which he her allured and bctraid 

To tell what time he might her lady see 

When she herselfe did bathe, that he might secret bee. 



778 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 

Tkereto hee promisfc, if slie would him pleasure 
With this small booiie, to quit her with a better; 
To weet, that v/hereas shee had out of measure 
Long iov'd the Fan chin, who by nought did set her, 
That he would undertake for this to get her 
To be his love, and of him liked well: 
"^ Besides all which, he vow'd to be her debter 
Por many moe good turnes then he would tell ; 
The least of which this little pleasure should excelL 

The simple maid did yield to him anone ; 

And eft him placed where he close might view 

That never any saw, save onely one, 

Who, for his liire to so foole-hardy dew, 

Was of his h= u >ds devour'd in hunters hew. 

Tho, as her maimer was on sunny da^^, 

Diana, with her nymphes about her, drew 

To this sweet spring ; where, doffing her array, 

She bath'd her lovely limbes, for love a likely pray. 

There Faunus saw that pleased much his eye, 
And made his hart to tickle in his brest, 
That, for great ioy of somewhat he did spy, 
He could him not containe in silent rest ; 
But, breaking forth in laughter, loud profest 
His foolish thought : a foolish faune indeed, 
That couldst not hold thyselfe so hidden blest. 
But wouldest needs thine owne conceit areed! 
Babblers unworthy been of so divine a meed. 

The goddesse, all abashed with that noise, 

In haste forth started from the guilty brooke ; 

And, running straight whereas she heard his voice, 

Enclos'd the bush about, and there him tooke 

Like darred lark, not daring up to looke 

On her whose sight before so much he sought. 

Thenceforth they drew him by the homes, and shook© 

Nigh all to peeces, that they left him nought ; 

And then into the open light they forth him brought. 

Like as an huswife, that with busie care 

Thinks of her dairie to make wondrous gaine, 

Finding whereas some wicked beast unware 

That breakes into her dayr' house, there doth drain e 

Her creaming pannes, and frustrate all her paine ; 

Hath, in some snare or gin set close behind, 

Entrapped him, and caught into her traine. 

Then thinkes what punishment were best assign'd. 

And thousand deathes deviseth in her vcngefull mind: 



THE PAEEIE QTTEENE, 779 

So did Diana and lier maydens all 

Use silly Faunus, now within their baile : 

They mocke and scorne him, and him foule miscall ; 

Some by the nose him plackt, some by the taile, 

And by his goatish beard some did him haile : 

Yefc he (poore soule !) with patience all did beare ; 

!For nought against their wils mip^lit counter vaile : 

!N"e ought he said, whatever he did heare ; 

But, hanging downe his head, did like a mome appearo. 

At length, when they had flouted him their fill, 

They gan to cast what penaunce him to give. 

Some would have gelt him ; but that same would spill 

The wood-gods breed, which must for ever live : 

Others would through the river him have drive 

And ducked deepe ; but that seem'd penaunce light s 

But most agreed, and did this sentence give, 

Him in deares skin to clad ; and in that plight 

To hunt him with their hounds, himselfe save how hee might 

But Cynthia's selfe, more angry then the rest. 
Thought not enough to punish him in sport, 
And of her shame to make a gamesome iest : 
But gan examine him in straighter sort. 
Which of her nymphes, or other close consort, 
Him thither brought, and her to him betraid. 
He, much affeard, to her confessed short 
That 'twas Molanna which her so bewraid. 
Then all attonce their hands upon Molanna laid. 

But him (according as they had decreed) 
With a deeres-skin they covered, and then cliast 
With all their hounds that after him did speed; 
But he, more speedy, from them fled more fast 
Then any deere ; so sore him dread aghast. 
They after follow'd all with shrill out-cry. 
Shouting as they the heavens would have brast ; 
That all the woods and dales, where he did flie. 
Did ring againe, and loud reeccho to the skie. 

So they him follow'd till they weary were ; 

When, back returning to Molann' againe. 

They, by commaund'ment of Diana, there 

Her whelm'd with stones : Yet Faunus, for her paiae. 

Of her beloved Fanchin did obtaiae, 

That her he would receive unto his bed. 

So now her waves passe through a pleasant plaine, 

Till with the Fanchin she hcrselfe doe wed, 

And both combin'd, themselves in one faire river spred. 



780 THE FAEEIE QTJEENB. 

ISTatli'Iesse Diana, full of indignation, 

Thenceforth abandond her delicious brooke : 

In whose sweete streame, before that bad occasion. 

So much delight to bathe her limbes she tooke : 

"Ne onely her, but also quite forsooke 

All those faire forrests about Arlo hid ; 

And all that mountaine, which doth overlooke 

The richest champian that may else be rid ; 

And the faire Shure, in which are thousand salmons bred. 

Them all, and all that she so deare did way. 
Thenceforth she left ; and, parting from the place. 
Thereon an heavy haplesse curse did lay ; 
To weet, that wolves, where she was wont to space 
Shou'd harbour'd be and all those woods deface, 
And thieves should rob and spoile that coast around. 
Since which, those woods, and all that goodly chase 
Poth to this day with wolves and thieves abound : 
"Wliicli too-too true that lands in-dwellers since have founde 



CANTO YIL 

Pealing from love to Natures bar. 

Bold Alteration pleades 
Large evidence : but Nature soone 

Her righteous doome areads. 

Ah ! whither dost thou now, thou greater muse, 

Me from these woods and pleasing forrests bring? 

And my fraile spirit, that dooth oft refuse 

This too high flight unfit for her weake wing, 

Lift up aloft, to tell of heavens king 

(Thy soveraine sire) his fortunate successe ; 

And victory in bigger noates to sing. 

Which he obtain'd against that Titanesse, 

That him of heavens empire sought to dispossesse? 

Yet, sith I needs follow thy behest, ^ 

Doe thou my weaker wit with skill inspire. 

Pit for this turne ; and in my sable brest 

Kindle fresh sparks of that immortall fire 

AYhich learned minds inflameth with desire 

Of heavenly things : for who, but thou alone 

That art yborne of heaven and heavenly sire, 

Can tell things doen in heaven so long ygone, 

So farre past memory of man that may be knowne? 



THE FAERIE QITEENB. ^1 

Now, at tlie time that was before agreed, 
The gods assembled all on Arlo Hill ; 
As well those that are sprung of heavenly seed, 
As those that all the other world doe fill. 
And rule both sea and land unto their will : 
Onely th' infernall powers might not appeare; 
As well for horror of their count'naunce ill, 
As for th' unruly fiends which they did feare ; 
Yet Pluto and Proserpina were pi i ant there. 

And thither also came all othpr creatures. 

Whatever life or motion doe retaine. 

According to their sundry kinds of features $ 

That Arlo scarsly could them all containe ; 

So full they filled every hill and plaine : 

And had not Natures Sergeant (that is Order) 

Them well disposed by his buisie paine, 

And raunged farre abroad in every border, 

They would have caused much confusion and disorder. 

Then forth issew'd (great goddesse) great Dame Nature, 

With goodly port and gracious maiesty, 

Being far greater and more tall of stature 

Then any of the gods or powers on hie ; 

Yet certes by her face and physnomy, • 

Whether she man or woman inly were, 

That could not any creature well descry; 

For, with a veile that wimpled every where, 

Her head and face was hid that mote to none appeare. 

That, some doe say, was so by skill devized. 

To hide the terror of her uncouth hew 

From mortall eyes that should be sore agrized ; 

For that her face did like a lion shew, 

That eye of wight could not indure to view : 

But others tell that it so beautious was. 

And round about such beames of splendor threw, 

That it the sunne a thousand times did pass, 

Ne could be scene but like an image in a glass. 

That well may seemen true ; for well I weene 
That this same day, when she on Arlo sat. 
Her garment was so bright and wondrous sheene. 
That my fraile wit cannot devize to what 
It to compare, nor finde like stufFe to that : 
As those three sacred saints, though else most wise. 
Yet on Mount Thabor quite their wits forgat 
When they their glorious lord in strange disgurse 
Transfigured sawe ; his garments so did daze their eyes. 
34 



78!^ THE FAEEIE QTTEENE. 

In a fayre plaine upon an equall liill 

She placed was in a pavilion ; 

'Not such as craftesmen by their idle skill 

Are wont for princes states to fashion ; 

But til' earth herself, of her owne motion, 

Out of her fruitfull bosome made to growe 

Most dainty trees, that, shooting up anon. 

Did seeme to bow their bloosming heads full lowe 

For homage unto her, and like a throne did shew. 

So hard it is for any living wight 

All her array and vestiments to tell, 

That old Dan Geffrey (in whose gentle spright. 

The pure well-head of poesie did dwell) 

In his Foules Parley durst not with it mell, 

But it transferred to Alane, who he thought 

Had in his Plaint cf Kindes describ'd it well: 

Which who will read set forth so as it ought. 

Go seek he out that Alane where he may be sought. 

And all the earth far underneath her feete 
Was dight with flowers, that voluntary grew 
Out of the ground, and sent forth odours sweet 5 
Tenne thousand mores of sundry sent and hew. 
That might delight the smell, or please the view. 
The which the nymphes from all the brooks thereby 
Had gathered, they at her foot-stoole threw ; 
That richer seem'd then any tapestry. 
That princes bowres adorne with painted imagery. 

And Mole himselfe, to honour her the more. 

Did deck himself in freshest faire attire ; 

And his high head, that seemeth alwaies hore 

With hardned frosts of former winters ire. 

He with an oaken girlond now did tire. 

As if the love of some new nymph late seene 

Had in him kindled youthfull fresh desii-e. 

And made him change his gray attire to greene : 

Ah! gentle Mole, such ioyance hath thee well beseene. 

Was never so great ioyance since the day 

That all the gods whylome assembled were 

On Hsemus hill in their divine array. 

To celebrate the solemne bridall cheare 

Twixt Peleus and Dame Thetis pointed there ; 

Where Phoebus self, that god of poets hight, 

They say, did sing the spousaU hymne full cleere. 

That all the gods were ravisht with delight 

Of his celestiall song and musicks wondrous might. 



THE FAEEIB QITEENE, 783 

This great grandmotlier of all creatures bred. 

Great JN'ature, ever young, yet full of eld ; 

Still mooving, yet unmoved from her stedj 

Unseene of any, yet of all beheld; 

Thus sitting in her throne, as I have teld, 

Before her came Dame Mutabilitie ; 

A.nd, being lowe before her presence feld 

With meek obaysance and humilitie, 

Thus gan her plaintif plea with words to amplifle ; 

" To thee, O greatest goddesse, onely great. 
An humble suppliant loe ! I lowely fly. 
Seeking for right, which I of thee entreat; 
"Who right to all dost deale indifferently, 
Damning all wrong and tortious iniurie. 
Which any of thy creatures doe to other 
Oppressing them with power unequally, 
Sith of them all thou art the equall mother. 
And knittest each to each, as brother unto brother. 

** To thee therefore of this same love I plaine, 

And of his fellow gods that faine to be. 

That challenge to themselves the whole worlds raiga. 

Of which the greatest part is due to me. 

And heaven itselfe by heritage in fee : 

For heaven and earth I both alike do deeme, 

Sith heaven and earth are both alike to thee ; 

And gods no more then men thou doest esteeme : 

For even the gods to thee, as men to g£>ds, do seeme. 

" Then weigh, O soveraigne goddesse, by what right 
These gods do claime the worlds whole soverainty ; 
And that is onely dew unto my might 
Arrogate to themselves ambitiously : 
As for the gods owne principality. 
Which love usurpes uniustly, that to be 
My heritage, love's selfe cannot deny. 
From my great grandsire Titan unto mee 
Deriv'd by dew descent ; as is well known to thee. 

" Yet mauger love, and all his gods beside, 

I doe possesse the worlds most regiment; 

As if ye please it into parts divide. 

And every parts inholders to convent. 

Shall to your eyes appeare incontinent. 

And first, the earth (great mother of us all) 

That only seems immov'd and permanent. 

And unto Mutabihty not thrall, 

Yet IB she chang'd in part, and eeke in generall: 



784 THE FAEHIE QtTEENE. 

" For all tliat from her springs, and is ybredde. 

However fayre it flourish for a time. 

Yet see we soone decay; and, being dead, 

To turne again unto their earthly shme 

Yet, out of their decay and mortall crime, 

We daily see new creatures to arize. 

And of their AYinter spring another Prime, 

Unlike in forme, and chang'd by strange disguise : 

So turne they still about, and change in restlesse wise. 

** As for her tenants ; that is, man and beasts ; 

The beasts we daily see massacred dy 

And thralls and vassals unto mens beheasts ; 

And men themselves doe change continually, 

From youth to eld, from wedth to poverty, 

From good to bad, from bad to worst of all : 

"Ne doe their bodies only flit and fly ; 

But eeke their minds (which they immortall call) 

Still change and vary thoughts, as new occasions fall. 

" Ke is the water in more constant case ; 

Whether those same on high, or these belowe: 

For th' ocean moveth still &om place to place ; 

And every river still doth ebbe and flowe ; 

!N"e any lake, that seems most still and slowe, 

'Ne poole so small, that can his smoothnesse holde 

When any winde doth under heaven blowe ; 

With which the clouds are also tost and roll'd, 

Now like great hills ; and streight, like sluces, tliem unfold. 

** So likewise are all watry living wights 

Still tost and turned with continuall change, 

JN'ever abyding in their stedfast plights : 

The fish, still floting, doe at random range. 

And never rest, but evermore exchange 

Their dwelling places, as the streames them carrie : 

"Ne have the watry foules a certaine grange 

Wherein to rest, ne in one stead do tarr^^; 

But flitting still doe flie, and still their places vary. 

"Next is the ayre : which who feeles not by sense 

(For of all sense it is the middle meane) 

To flit still, and with subtill influence 

Of his thin spirit all creatures to maintaine 

In state of life ? O weake life ! that does leane 

On thing so fickle as th' unsteady ayre. 

Which every howre is chang'd, and altred cleane 

With every blast that bloweth fowle or faire : 

The faire doth it prolong ; the fowle doth it impaire. 



THE PAEEIE QTTEENE. 785 

" Tlierein the changes infinite beliolde, 
Which to her creatures every minute chaunce ; 
Now boyling hot ; streight friezing deadly cold ; 
JsTow faire sun-shine, that makes all skip and daunce} 
Streight bitter storms, and balefuU countenance 
That makes them all to sliiver and to shake : 
Hayne, hayle. and snowe do pay them sad penance, 
And dreadfull thunder-claps (that make them quake) 
With flames and flashing lights that thousand changes make* 

''Last is the fire ; which, though it live for ever, 

Ne can be quenched quite ; yet, every day, 

We see his parts, so soone as they do sever. 

To lose their heat and shortly to decay; 

So makes himself his owne consuming pray; 

Ke any living creatures doth he breed; 

But all, that are of others bredd, doth slay; 

And with their death his cruell life dooth feed ; 

Nought leaving but their barren ashes without seedft, 

*' Thus all these fewer (the which the groundwork bee 

Of all the world and of all living wights) 

To thousand sorts of change we subject see : 

Yet are they changed by other wondrous slights 

Into themselves, and lose their native mights ; 

The fire to aire, and th* ayre to water sheere, 

And water into earth; yet water fights 

With fire, and aire with earth, approaching neere; 

Yet all are in one body, and as one appeare. 

** So in them all raignes Mutabilitie ; 

However these, that gods themselves do call. 

Of them doe claime the rule and soverainty j 

As Vesta, of the fire aithereall ; 

Vulcan, of this with us so usuall ; 

Ops, of the earth ; and luno, of the a:^Te ; 

Neptune, of seas; and nymphes, of rivers all: 

!For all those rivers to m.e siibiect are ; 

And all the rest, which they usurp, be all my share. 

** Which to approven true, as I have told. 
Vouchsafe, O goddesse, to thy presence call 
The rest whicli doe the world in being hold ; 
As times and seasons of the yeare that fall: 
Of all the wliich demand in generall, 
Or iudge thyselfe, by verdit of thine eye, 
Whether to me they are not subiect all." 
Nature did yeeld thereto ; and by-and-by 
Bade Order call them aU before her maiesty. 



788 THE PAEEIE QTTEENE. 

So forth issew*d tlie seasons of tlie yeare: 
First, lusty Spring all diglit in leaves of ilowres 
That freshly budded and new bloosmes did beare. 
In which a thousand bn-ds had built their bowres 
That sweetly sung to call forth paramours ; 
And in his hand a iavelin he did beare, 
^ And on his head (as fit for warlike stoures) 
A guilt engra\'en morion he did weare ; 
That as some did him love, so others did him feare. 

Then came the ioUy Sommer, being dight 

In a thin silken cassock coloured greene. 

That was unlyned all, to be more light: 

And on his head a girlond well beseene 

He wore, from which as he had chauffed been 

The sweat did drop ; and in his hand he boro 

A bowe and shaftes, as he in forrest greene 

Had hunted late the hbbard or the bore, 

And now would bathe his hmbes with labor heated sore. 

Then came the Autumne all in yellow clad 

As though he ioyed in his plentious store, 

Laden with fruits that made him laugh, full glad 

TJiat he had banisht Jiunger, which to-fore 

Had by the belly oft him pinched sore : 

Upon his head a wreath, that was enrold 

"With ears of corne of every sort, he bore, 

And in his hand a sickle he did holde, 

To reape the ripened fruits the which the earth had yold. 

Lastly, came Winter cloathed all in frize, 
Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill ; 
Whil'st on his hoary beard his breath did freese. 
And the auU drops, that from his purpled bill 
As from a limbeck did adown distill : 
In his right hand a tipped stafie he held, 
"With which his feeble steps he stayed still ; 
For he was famt with cold, and weak with eld ; 
That scarse his loosed hmbes he hable was to weld. 

These, marching softly, thus in order went. 

And after them the monthes all riding came; 

First, sturdy March, with brows full sternly bent 

And armed strongly, rode upon a ram, 

The same which over Hellespontus swam; 

Yet in his hand a spade he also hent. 

And in a bag all sorts of seeds ysame, 

Which on the earth he s trowed as he went, 

And fild her womb with fruitfull hope of nourishment. 



THE FAEEIE -QXTEEITB. 787 

Next came fresh Aprill, full of lustyhed, 

And wanton as a kid whose horne new buds s 

Upon a bull he rode, the same which led 

Europa flotini? throucfh th* Arp:olick fluids : 

His homes were gilden all with golden studs. 

And a^arnished with garlonds goodly dight 

Of ail the fairest flqjvTes and freshest buds 

Which th* earth brings forth ; and wet he seem*d in sieht 

With waves, through which he waded for his loves delight. 

Then came faire May, the fayrest mayd on ground, 
Deckt all with dainties of her seasons pryde, 
And throwing flowres out of her lap around : 
Upon two brethrens shoulders she did ride, 
The twinnes of Leda ; which on ej^ther side 
Supported her like to their soveraine queene : 
Lord ! how all creatures laught when her they spido 
And leapt and daunc't as they had ravisht beene ! 
And Cupid selfe about her fluttred all in greene. 

And after her came ioUy lune, arrayd 

All ill greene leaves, as he a player were : 

Yet in his time he wrought as well as playd, 

That by his plougli-yrons mote right well appeare:] 

Upon a crab he rode, that him did beare 

With crooked crawling steps an uncouth pase. 

And backward yode, as bargemen wont to fare 

Bending their force contrary to their face ; 

Like that ungracious crew which faines demurest grace. 

Then came hot luly boyling like to fire. 
That all his garments he had cast away: 
Upon a lyon raging yet with ire 
He boldly rode, and made him to obay: 
(It was the beast that whylome did forray 
The Nemsean forrest, till th* Amphytrionide 
Him slew, and with his hide did him array :) 
Behinde his backe a sithe, and by his side 
Under his belt he bore a sickle circling wide. 

The sixt was August, being rich arrayd 

In garment all of gold downe to the ground: 

Yet rode he not, but led a lovely mayd 

Forth by the lilly hand, the which was cround 

With eares of corne, and full her hand was found: 

That was the righteous virgin, which of old 

Liv*d here on earth, and plenty made abound; 

"But, after Wrong was lov'd and lustice solde, 

She left th' unrighteous world, and was to heaven extoli 



788 TrfE PABRIE QTTEEKB. 

ISText Mm September marched eeke on foote; 
Yet was he heavy laden with the spoyle 
Of harvests riches, which he made his boot, 
4nd him enricht with bounty of the soyle : 
In his one hand, as fit for harvests toyle. 
He held a knife-hook ; and in th* other hand 
A paire of waights, with which he did ^soyle 
Both more and lesse, where it in doubt did stand. 
And equall gave to each as Justice duly scann'd. 

Then came October full of merry glee ; 

For yet his noule was totty of the must. 

Which he was treading in the.wine-fats see. 

And of the ioyous oyle, whose gentle gust 

Made him so frollick and so full of lust : * 

Upon a dreadfull scorpion he did ride. 

The same which by Dianaes doom uniust 

Slew great Orion ; and eeke by his side 

He had his ploughing-share and coulter ready tyde. 

IsText was November ; he fiill grosse and fat 

As fed with lard, and that right well might seeme ; 

For he had been a fatfing hogs of late, 

That yet his browes with sweasfc did reek and steem. 

And yet the season was full sharp and breem ; 

In planting eeke he took no small delight : 

Whereon he rode, not easie was to deeme ; 

For it a dreadfull centaure was in sight. 

The seed of Saturne and faire JS'ais, Chiron higlit. 

And after him came next the chill December : 

Yet he, through merry feasting which he made 

And great bonfires, did not the cold remember; 

His Saviours birth his mind so much did glad : 

Upon a shaggy -bearded goat he rode, 

The same wherewith Dan love in tender yeares. 

They say, was nourisht by th* Isean mayd ; 

And in his hand a broad deepe bowle he beares, 

Of which he freely drinks an health to all his peeres. 

Then came old lanuary, wrapped well 

In many weeds to keep the cold away ; 

Yet did he quake and quiver like to queU, 

And blowe his nayles to warme them if he may ; 

For they were numbd with holding all the day 

An hatchet keene, with which he felled wood 

And from the trees did lop the needlesse spray: 

Upon an huge great earth-pot steane he stood, [f^ood. 

From whose wide mouth there flowed forth the Eomano 



THB PAERIE QITEBNB. 789 

And lastly came cold February, sitting 
In an old wagon, for he could not ride, 
Drawne of two fishes for the season fitting. 
Which through the flood before did softly slydo 
And swim away; yet had he by his side 
His plough and harnesse fit to till the ground, 
Jlnd tooles to prune the trees, before the pride 
Of hasting Prime did make them burgein round. 
So past the twelve months forth, and their dew places found. 

And after these there came the Day and Night, 
Biding together both with equall pase ; 
Th' one on a palfrey blacke, the other white : 
But Night had covered her uncomely face 
With a blacke veile, and held in hand a mace. 
On top whereof the moon and stars were pight. 
And Sleep and Darknesse round about did trace s 
But Day did beare upon his scepters hight 
The goodly sun encompast all with beames bright. 

Then came the Howres, faire daughters of high love 
And timely Night ; the which were all endewed 
With wondrous beauty fit to kindle love ; 
But they were virgins all, and love eschewed 
That might forslack the charge *to-them forQshewed 
By mighty love; who did them porters make 
Of heavens gate (whence all the gods issued) 
Which they did dayly watch, and nightly wake 
By even turnes, ne ever did their charge forsake. 

And after all came Life; and lastly Death: 

Death with most grim and griesly visage seene. 

Yet is he nought but parting of the breath ; 

Ne ought to see, but like a shade to weene. 

Unbodied, unsoul'd, unheard, unseene : 

But Life was like a faire young lusty boy. 

Such as they faine Dan Cupid to have beene, 

Eull of delightfull health and lively ioy, 

Deckt all with flowres and wings of gold fit to employ. 

When these were past, tiius gan the Titanesse ; 
" Lo ! mighty mother, now be iudge, and say 
Whether in all thy creatures more or lesse 
Change doth not raign and beare the greatest sway; 
For who sees not that time on all doth pray? 
But times do change and move continually : 
So nothing here long standeth in one stay : 
Wherefore this lower world who can deny 
But to be subiect still to MutabilitieP" 



790 THE FAERIE QITEENE. 

Tlien tliiis gan love ; "right true it is, that these 
And all thin.o-s else that under heaven dwell 
Are chaung'd of time, who doth them all disseise 
Of being: but who is it (to me tell) 
That Time himselfe doth move and still compell 
To keepe his course ? Is not that namely wee, 
Which poure that vertue from our heavenly cell 
That moves them all, and makes them changed be? 
So them we gods doe rule, and in them also thee.'* 

To whom thus Mutability ; " The things, 

Which we see not how they are mov'd and swayd. 

Ye may attribute to yourselves as kings, 

And say, they by your secret power are made : 

Eut w^hat we see not, who shall thus perswade ? 

Eut were they so, as ye them faine to be, 

Mov'd by your might, and ordered by your ayde, 

Yet what if I can prove, that even yee 

Yourselves are likewise chang'd, and subiect unto mee ? 

'* And first, concerning her that is the first, 

Even you, faire Cynthia ; whom so much ye make 

loves dearest darling, she was bred and nurst 

On Cynthus hill, whence she her name did take; 

Then is shee mortall borne, howso ye crake : 

Besides, her face and countenance every day * 

We changed see and sundry forms partake, 

Now hornd, now round, now bright, now brown and gray ! 

So that as changefull as the moone men use to say. 

" Next Mercury ; who though he lesse appeare 

To change his hew, and alwayes seeme as one ; 

Yet he his course doth alter every yeare. 

And is of late far out of order gone : 

So Venus eeke, that goodly paragone, 

Though faire all night, yet is she darke all day: 

And Phoebus self, who lightsome is alone, 

Yet is he oft eclipsed by the way, 

And fills the darkned world with terror and dismay, 

" Now Mars, that valiant man, is^hanged most ; 

For he sometimes so far runs out of square. 

That he his way doth seem quite to have lost, 

And cleane w^ithout his usuall sphere to fare ; 

That even these star-gazers stonisht are 

At sight thereof, and damne their lying bookes : 

Sc likewise grim Sir Saturne oft doth spare 

His sterne aspect, and calme his crabbed lookes : 

So many turning cranks these have, so many crookes. 



THE FAEEIE QUEENS. 791 

** But you, Dan love, that only constant are, 

And king of all the resfc, as ye do clanie, 

Are you not subject eeke to this misfare? 

Then let me aske you this withouten blame ; 

"Where were ye borne ? Some say in Crete by name, 

Others in Thebes, and others otherwhere ; 

But, wheresoever they comment the same, 

They all consent that ye begotten were 

And borne here ui this world ; ne other can appeare. 

" Then are ye mortall borne, and thrall to me ; 
Unlesse the kingdome of the sky ye make 
Imniortall and unchangeable to be : 
Besides, that power and vertue, which ye spake. 
That ye here worke, doth many changes take, 
And your owne natures change : for each of you, 
That vertue have or this or that to make. 
Is chekt and changed from his nature trew. 
By others opposition or obliquid view. 

*' Besides, the sundry motions of your spheares, 
So sundry waies and fashions as clerkes faine, 
Some in short space, and some in longer yeares ; 
What is the same but alteration plaine? 
OneJy the starrie skie doth still remaine : 
Yet do the starres and signes therein still move. 
And even itself is mov'd, as wizards saine ; 
But all that moveth doth mutation love : 
Therefore both you and them to me I subiect prove. 

'* Then since within this wide great universe 
Nothing doth firme and permanent appeare. 
But all things tost and turned by transverse ; 
What then should let, but I aloft should reare 
My trophee, and from all the triumph beare? 
Now judge then, O thou greatest goddesse trew. 
According as thyselfe doest see and lieare, 
And unto me addoom that is my dew : 
That is, the rule of all ; all being rul'd by you." 

So having ended, silence long ensewed; • 

Ne Nature to or fro spake for a space, 

But with firme eyes allixt the ground still viewed. 

Meane while all creatures, looking in her face, 

Expecting th* end of this so doubtfull case, 

Pid hang in long suspence what would ensew. 

To whether side should fall the soveraigne place : 

At length she, looking up with chearefull view. 

The silence brake, and gave her doome in speeches few* 



792 THE FAEBIB QXTEENB. 

** I well consider all tliat ye have sayd ; 

And find that all things stedfastnes doe hate 

And changed be ; yet, being rightly wayd. 

They are not changed from their first estate; 

But by their change their being doe dilate ; 

And, turning to themselves at length againe. 

Doe worke their owne perfection so by fate : ^ 

Then over them Change doth not rule and raigne ; 

But they raigne over Change, and doe their states maintaine. 

" Cease therefore, daughter, further to aspire. 

And thee content thus to be rul'd by me : 

For thy decay thou seekst by thy desire : 

But time shall come that all shall changed bee. 

And from thenceforth none no more change shall see !** 

So was the Titaness put downe and whist. 

And love confirm'd in his imperiaU see. 

Then was that whole assembly quite dismist, 

And Natures selfe did vanish, whither no man wist. 



THE VniTH CANTO, UNPEEFITE. 

When I bethinke me on that speech whyleare 

Of Mutability, and well it way ; 

Me seemes, that though she all unworthy wero 

Of the heav'ns rule ; yet, very sooth to say. 

In all things else she bears the greatest sway : 

Which makes me loath this state of life so tickle. 

And love of things so vaine to cast away ; 

Whose flowring pride, so fading and so fickle, 

Short Time shall soon cut down with his consuming sickle ! 

Then gin I thinke on that which Nature sayd, 

Of that same time when no more change shall be, 

But stedfast rest of all things, fijmely stayd 

Upon the piUours of Eternity, 

That is contrayr to Mutabihtie : 

For all that moveth doth in change delight : 

But thenceforth all shall rest eternally 

With him that is the God of Sabaoth hight : 

O I that great Sabaoth God, grant me tlmt Sabbaths sight ! 

• •••*• 

• • • • • o 



EPITHALAMION. 



YE learned sisters, whicli have oftentimes 
Beene to me ayding, others to adorne, 
Whom ye thought worthy of your graceful! rymes. 
That even the greatest did not greatly scorne 
To heare theyr names sung in your simple layes. 
But ioyed in theyr praise ; 
And when ye list your own mishaps to mou'/ne, 
Which death, or love, or fortunes wreck did rayse. 
Your string could soone to sadder tenor turne. 
And teach the woods and waters to lament 
Your dolefull dreriment : 
Now lay those sorrowfull complaints aside ; 
Auvi, having all your heads with girlands crownd, 
Helpe me mine owne loves prayses to resound ; 
Ne let the same of any be envide : 
So Orpheus did for his owne bride ! 
So I unto my selfe alone will sing ; 
The woods shall to me answer, and my eccho ring. 

Early, before the worlds light-giving lampe 

His golden beame upon the hils doth spred, 

Having disperst the nights unchear full dampe, 

Poe ye awake ; and, with fresh lustyhed, 

Go to the bowre of my beloved love, 

My truest turtle dove ; 

Bid her awake ; for Hymen is awake, 

And long since ready forth his maske to move, 

With his bright tead that flames with many a flake, 

And many a bachelor to waite on him, 

In theyr fresh garments trim. 

Bid her awake therefore, and soone her dight. 

For loe ! the wished day is come at last. 

That shall, for all the paynes and sorrowes past. 

Pay to her usury of long delight : 

And, whylest she doth her dight, 

Doe ye to her of ioy and solace sing, 

That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. 

Bring with you all the njrniphes that you can heare 
Both of the rivers and the forrests greene, 
And of the sea that neighbours to her neare : 
All with gay gii'lands goodly wel beseene. 



794 EPITHALAMIOJ^. 

And let tliem also with them bring in hand 

Another gay girland, 

For my f ayre love, of lillyes and of roses. 

Bound truelove wize, with a blew silke riband. 

And let them make great store of bridale poses. 

And let them eke bring store of other Howers, 

To deck the bridale bowers. 

And let the ground whereas her foot shall tread, 

For feare the stones her tender foot should wrong, 

Be strewd with fragrant flowers all along, 

And diapred lyke the discolored mead. 

Which done, doe at her chamber dore awayt. 

For she will waken strayt ; 

The whiles do ye this song unto her sing, 

The woods shall to you answer, and your echo ring. 

Ye nymph es of Mulla, which with carefull heed 

The silver scaly trouts do tend full well, 

And greedy pikes which use therein to feed ; 

(Those trouts and pikes all others doe excell ;) 

And ye likewise, which keepe the rushy lake. 

Where none doo fishes take ; 

Bynd up the locks the which hang scatterd light. 

And in his waters, which your mirror make. 

Behold your faces as the christall bright. 

That when you come whereas my love doth lie, 

No blemish she may spie. 

And eke, ye lightfoot mayds, which keepe the doore. 

That on the hoary mountayne use to towre ; 

And the wylde wolves, jv^hich seeke them to devoure. 

With your Steele darts doe chace from coming neer : 

Be also present here, 

To helpe to decke her, and to help to sing. 

That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. 

Wake now, my love, awake ; for it is time ; 

The rosy mome long since left Tithons bed. 

All ready to her silver coche to clyme ; 

And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed. 

Hark ! how the cheerfull birds do chaunt theyr laies 

And Carroll of Loves praise. 

The merry larke hir mattins sings aloft ; 

The thrush reply es ; the mavis descant playes: 

The ouzell shrills ; the ruddock warbles soft ; 

So goodly all agree, with sweet consent, 

To this dayes merriment. 

Ah ! my deere love : why doe ye sleepe thus long, 

When meeter were that ye should now awake, 

T* awayt the comming of your ioyous make. 



EPITHALAMION. 79i 

And hearken to the birds love-iearned son^, 

The deawy leaves among ! 

For they of ioy and pleasance to you sing, 

That all the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring. 

My love is now awake out of her dreame, 
And her fayre eyes, like stars that dimmed were 
With darksome cloudes, now shew theyr goodly beams 
More bright then Hesperus his head doth rere. 
Come now, ye damzels, daughters of dehght, 
Helpe quickly her to dight : 
But first come ye fayre houres, which were begot, 
In loves sweet paradice of day and night ; 
Which doe the seasons of the year allot. 
And all, that ever in this world is fayre, 
Do make and still repayre : 
And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian qucene, 
The which doe still adorn her beauties pride, 
Helpe to adorne my beautifullest bride : 
And, as ye her array, still throw betweene 
Some graces to be scene; 
And, as ye use to Venus, to her sing, 
The whiles the woods shal answer, and your eccho 
rmg. 

Now is my love all ready forth to come: 

Let all the virgins therefore well awayt: 

And ye fresh boyes, that tend upon her groome, 

Prepare your selves; for he is comming strayt. 

Set all your things in seemely good aray. 

Fib for so ioyfuil day : 

The ioyfulst day that ever sunne did see. 

Fair sun ! shew forth thy favourable ray. 

And let thy lifull heat not fervent be, 

For feare of burning her sunshyny face, 

Her beauty to disgrace. 

O fayrest Phoebus ! father of the muse! 

If ever I did honour thee aright. 

Or sing the thing that mote thy mind delight, 

Poe not thy servants simple boone refuse ; 

But let this day, let this one day, be mine ; 

Let all the rest be thine. 

Then I thy-soverayne prayses loud wil sing, 

That all the woods shall answer; and theyr eccho ring. 

Harke ! how the minstrils gin to shrill aloud 
Their merry musick that resounds from far, 
The pipe, the tabor, and the tremblmg croud, 
That well agree withoutcn breach or iar. 



798 EPITHALAMION. 

But, most of all, the darozels doe delight, 

"WTien they their tymbrels smyte. 

And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet, 

That all the sences tlie}^ doe ravish quite ; 

The whyles the boyes run up and downe the street. 

Crying aloud with strong confused noyce, 

As if it were one voyce, 

Hymen, lo Hymen, Hymen, they do shout ; 

That eren to the heavens theyr shouting shrill 

Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fiU; 

To which the people standing all about, 

As in approvance, doe thereto applaud. 

And loud advaunce her laud; 

And evermore they Hymen, Hymen sing, 

That all the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring. 

Loe ! where she comes along with porth^ pace, 

Jjyke Phoebe, from her chamber of the east, 

Arysing forth to run her mighty race, 

Clad all in white, that seems a virgin best. 

So well it her beseems, that ye would weene 

Some angell she had beene. 

Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre, 

Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres atweene. 

Doe lyke a golden mantle her attyre ; 

And, being crowned with a girland greene. 

Seem lyke some may den queene. 

Her modest eyes, abashed to behold 

So many gazers as on her do stare, 

Upon the lowly ground affixed are ; 

Ne dare lift up her countenance too bold, 

But blush to heare her prayses sung so loud. 

So farre from being proud. 

Nathlesse doe ye still loud her prayses sing, 

That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. 

Tell me, ye merchants daughters, did ye see 

So fayre a creature in your towne before; 

So sweet, so lovely, and so mild as she, 

Adornd with beautyes grace and vertues store? 

Her goodly eyes lyke saphyres shining bright. 

Her forehead yvory white, 

Her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath rudded. 

Her lips lyke cherries charmiug men to byte. 

Her brest like to a bowl of creame uncrudded. 

Her paps l^^ke lyllies budded. 

Her snowie neck lyke to a marble towre; 

And all her body like a i^allace fayre. 

Ascending up, with many a stately stayre. 

To honors seat and chastities sweet bowro. 



EPITHAtAMION. 797 

Why stand ye still ye virgins in amaze^ 

Upon her so to gaze, 

Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing. 

To which the woods did answer, and your ec6lio ring? 

But if ye saw that which no eyes can see, 

The inward beauty of her lively spright. 

Garnish t with heavenly guifts of high degf ee, 

Much more then would ye^ wonder at that sight 

And stand astonisht lyke^'fo those which red 

Medusaes mazeful hed. 

There dwells sweet love, and constant chastity. 

Unspotted fayth, and comely womanhood, 

Regard of honour, and mild modesty; 

There yertue raynes as queene in royal thronOf 

And giveth lawes alone, 

The which the base affections doe obay. 

And yeeld theyr services unto her will ; 

Ne thought of things uncomely ever may 

Thereto approch to tempt her mind to ill. 

Had ye once scene these her celestial threasureg, 

And unrevealed pleasures, 

Then would ye wonder, and her prayses sing, 

That all the woods should answer, and your eccho ring. 

Open the temple gates unto my love, 

Open them wide that she may enter in. 

And all the postes adorne as doth behove. 

And all the pillours deck with girlands trim. 

For to receyve this saynt with honour dew. 

That commeth in to you. 

With trembling steps, and humble reverence. 

She commeth in, before th' Almighties viewj 

Of her ye virgins learne obedience. 

When so ye come into those holy places. 

To humble your proud faces : 

Bring her up to th' high altar, that she may 

The sacred ceremonies there partake, 

The which do cndlcsso matrimony make ; 

And let the roring organs loudly play 

The praises of the Lord in lively notes ; 

The whiles, with hollow throates. 

The choristers the ioyous antheme sing, 

That all the woods may answer, and their eccho ring. 

Behold, whiles she before the altar stands, 
Hearing the holy priest that to her speakcs. 
And blesseth her with his two happy hands, 
How the red roses £ush up in Ler cheekes, 



798 EPITHAIiAMIOK* 

And the pure snow, with, goodly vermill stayna 

Like crimsin. dyde in grayne: 

That even the angels, which continually 

About the sacred altar doe remaine, 

Porget their service and about her fly, 

Ofte peeping in her lace, that seems more fayre 

The more they on it stare. 

But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground. 

Are governed with goodly modesty. 

That suffers not one look to glaunce awry,' 

Which may let in a little thought unsownd. 

"Why blush ye, love, to give to me your hand, 

The pledge of all our band ! 

Sing, ye sweet angels, Alleluya sing. 

That all the woods may answer, and your eCclio ring. 

Now al is done: bring home the bride againe; 

Bring home the triumph of our victory: 

Bring home with you the glory of her gaine, 

With ioyance bring her and with iollity. ^ 

JSTever had man more ioyfull day than this. 

Whom heaven would heape with blis, 

Make feast therefore now all this Hve-long day; 

This day for ever to me holy is. 

Poure out the wine without restraint or stay, 

Poure not by cups, but b v the belly full, 

Poure out to all that wull. 

And sprinkle all the posts and wals with wine. 

That they may sweat, and drunken be withall. 

Crowne ye god Bacchus with a coronall, 

And Hymen also crowne with wreaths of vine; 

And let the Graces daunce unto the rest, 

For they can doo it best : 

The whiles the maydens dee theyr carroll sing, 

To which the woods shaK answer, and theyr eccho ring. 

Eing ye the bels, ye yong men of the toWne, 

And leave your wonted labors for this day: 

This day is holy; doe ye write it downe, 

That ye for ever it remember may. 

This day the sunne is in his chiefest hight, 

With Barnaby the bright, ^ 

From whence declining daily by degrees, 

He somewhat loseth of his heat and light, 

When once the Crab behind his back he sees. 

But for this time it ill ordained was, 

To choose the longest day in all the yeare. 

And shortest night, when longest litter were: 

Yet never day so long, but late would passe. 



EPITHALAMION". 799 

King ye the bels, to make it weare away, 

And bonefiers make all day; 

And daunce about tbem, and about tliem sing, 

That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. 

Ah ! when will this long weary day have end, 

And lende me leave to come unto my love ? 

How slowly do the houres thejrr numbers spend? 

How slowly does sad Time his feathers move ? 

Hast thee, O- fay rest planet, to thy home. 

Within the western fome : 

Thy tyred steedes long since have need of rest. 

Lono: though it be, at last I see it gloome. 

And the bright evening-star with golden creast 

Appeare out of the east. 

Fayre childe of beautie ! glorious lampe of love ! 

That all the host of heaven in rankes doost lead. 

And guides t lovers through the nights sad dread. 

How chearefully thou lookest from above, 

And seemst to laugh atweene thy twinkling light, 

As ioying in the sight 

Of these glad many, which for ioy do sing. 

That all the woods them answer, and their eccho ring ! 

IS'ow cease, ye damsels, your delights fore-past ; 

Enough it is that all the day was youres : 

Now day is doen, and night is nighing fast, 

Now bring the bryde into the brydall bowres. 

The night is come, now soon her disaray. 

And in her bed her lay; 

Lay her in lillies and in violets, 

And silken curteins over her display, 

And odoured sheets, and arras coverlets. 

Behold how goodly my faire love does ly, 

In proud humility! 

Like unto Maia, when as love her took 

In Tempe, lying on the flowry gras, 

Twixt sleepe and wake, after she weary was, 

With bathing in the Acidalian brooke. 

Now it is night, ye damsels may be gone, 

And leave my love alone, 

And leave hkewise jour former lay to sing : 

The woods no more shall answer, nor your eccho ring. 

Now welcome, night! thou night so long expected. 
That long dales labour doest at last defray, 
And all my cares, which cruell Love collected. 
Hast sumd in one, and cancelled for aye : 



800 EPITHAIiAMIOir. 

Spread tliy broad wing over my love and me, 

That no man may ns see : 

And in tliy sable mantle us enwrap, 

From feare of perrill and foule horror free. 

Let no false treason seeke us to entrap, 

Nor any dread disquiet once annoy 

The safety of our ioy ; 

But let the night be calme, and quietsome. 

Without tempestuous storms or sad afray: 

Lyke as when love with fayre Alcmena lay. 

Ween he begot the great Tirynthian groome j 

Or lyke as when he with thy selfe did lie 

And begot Majestie. 

And let the mayds and yongmen cease to sing ; 

'Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring. 

Let no lamenting cryes, nor dolefull teares, 

Ee heard all ni^ht within, nor yet without : 

'Ne let false whispers, breeding hidden feares, 

Breake gentle sleepe with misconceived dout. 

Let no deluding dreames, nor dreadful sights. 

Make sudden sad affrights ; 

]^e let house-fyres, nor lightnings helpless harmes, 

"Ne let the ponke, nor other evill sprights, 

"Ne let mischievous witches with theyr charmes, 

"Ne let hob-goblins, names whose sence we see not, 

Pray us with things that be not : 

Let not the skriech-owle nor the storke be heard, 

!N"or the night raven, that still. deadly yels ; 

'NoY damned ghosts, cald up with mighty spels, 

ISTor griesly vultures, make us once affeard : 

"Ne let th' unpleasant quyre of frogs still croking 

Make us to wish theyr choking. 

Let none of these theyr drery accents sing; 

I^Te let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring. 

But let stil Silence trew night-watches keepe, 

That sacred Peace may in assurance rayne. 

And tymely Sleep, when it is tyme to sleepe. 

May poure his limbs forth on your pleasant playne ; 

The whiles an hundred little winged loves, 

Like divers-fethered doves, 

Shall fly and flutter round about the bed. 

And in the secret darke, that none reproves, 

Their prety stealthes shall worke, and snares shall spread 

To filch away sweet snatches of dehght, 

Conceal'd through covert night. 



EPITHALAMION. 801 

Ye sonnes of Venns, play your sports at will ! 

For prreedy pleasure, carelesse of your toyes 

Thinks more upon her paradise of ioyes. 

Then what ye do, albe it good or ill. 

All night therefore attend your merry play, 

For it will soone be day : 

Now none doth hinder you, that say or sing ; 

Ne will the woods now answer, nor your eccho ring. 

Who is the same, which at my window peepes ? 

Or whose is that faire face that shines so bright? 

Is it not Cinthia, she that never sleepes. 

But walkes about high heaven al the night ? 

O ! fayrest goddesse, do thou not envy 

My love with me to spy: 

For thou likewise didst love, though now unthought 

And for a fleece of wooll, which privily 

The Latmian shepherd once unto thee brought. 

His pleasures with thee wrought. 

Therefore to us be favorable now; 

And sith of wemens labours thou hast charge, 

And generation goodly dost enlarge, 

Encline thy will t' effect our wishfull vow, 

And the chast womb informe with timely see J, 

That may our comfort breed: 

Till which we cease our hopefull hap to sing; 

Ne let the woods us answer, nor our eccho ring. 

And thou, great luno ! wWch with awful might 

The lawes of wedlock still dost patronize; 

And the religion of the faith first plight ^ 

With sacred rites hast taught to solemnize; 

And eke for comfort often called art 

Of wpmen in their smart; 

Eternally bind thou this lovely band, 

And all thy blessings unto us impart. 

And thou, glad Genius ! in whose gentle hand 

The bridale bowre and geniall bed remaine. 

Without blemish or staine: 

And the sweet pleasures of theyr loves delight 

With secret ayde doost succour and supply. 

Till they bring forth the fruitfull progeny; 

IScnd us the timely fruit of this same night. 

And thou, fayre Hebe ! and thou, Hymen free? 

Grant that it may so be. 

Till which we cease your further prayse to sing; 

Ke any woods shall answer, nor your eccho ring. 



803 EPITHALAMION. 

And ye liigli heavens, tlie temple of tlie gods, 

In which a thousand torches flaming bright 

Poe burne, that to us wretched earthly clods 

In dreadful darknesse lend desired light; 

And all ye powers which in the same remayne. 

More than we men can fayne ! 

Pour out 3^our blessing on us plentiously. 

And happy influence upon us raine, 

That we may raise a large posterity. 

Which from the earth, w^hich they may long possesse 

With lasting happinesse. 

Up to your haughty pall aces may mount; 

And, for the guerdon of theyr glorious merit, 

May heavenly tabernacles there inherit. 

Of blessed saints for to increase the count. 

So let us rest, sweet love, in hope of this. 

And cease till then our tymely ioyes to sing: 

The woods no more us answer, nor our eccho rmg: 

Song! made in lieu of many ornaments, 

With tcJiich my love should duly have heen dectf 

JVhich cutting off through hasty accidents. 

Ye icould not sta,y your deio time to expect, 

Sut promist both to recompens; 

jBe unto her a goodly ornament, 

And for short time an endlesse monime^J 



GLOSSARY. 



Ahaect In tlie two o!d quartos ; but 
in the folios Abase, to lower, to let 
fall 
Abandy to abandon 
Abash, to terrify, make ashamed 
Aberr, to bear, carry, demean, behave 
Abet, to vindicate, and to maintain 
Abich, Aby, Abyde. to abide, suffer, 

endure 
Abjected, thrown down 
Abode, staying, or delay 
Abraid, awake, awoke 
Abray out of sleep, raisc awake. 

Abrayd, awaked 
Abusion, fraud, abuse 
Abye, abide by 
Accloy, to cloy, fill up. Accloyes, 

chokes up, fills up 
Accorage, to encourage 
According, granting 
Accoste, to approach 
Accosting, in falconry, to crouch or 

stoop 
Account, tell over 
Accoy'd, soothed, appeased 
Accoyled, stood around, gathered 

together 
Accrewed, increased, united, collected 
Achates, 1st and 2nd quartos. The 

folios Cates^ i. e. provisions 
Acquit, released 
Aerates, intemperance 
Adaw, to daunt. Sometimes signi- 
fies to abate 
Addeme, adjudge, deem 
Address, to dress, prepare, order, 

make ready 
Admirance, admiration 
Adoe, business 
Adore, for adora 



Adortre (substantively), adorning, 
ornament 

Adrcdd, Adrad, frightened, to be 
afraid, to dread 

Advance, to hasten, to set forward 

Advaimce, to recommend 

Advaunced, incited, inflamed 

Advewed, considered 

Advise, to consult, deliberate, con- 
sider 

Advisement, counsel, advice, circum- 
spection 

Adward, award, judgment, sentence 

Aery, a hawk's-nest 

Affeare, to frighten 

Affect, affection, passion 

Affrap, to encounter, to strike do^vn 

Affray, terror, tumult, To Aff'ray, to 
terrify 

Affrended, made friends 

Affret, rencounter, hasty meeting 

Affronting, opposing front to front ; 
meeting face to face 

Affy, betroth. Affide, betrothed, 
affianced 

Aggrace, favour, kindness 

Aggrate, to gratify, to please 

Aghast, frightened, astonished 

Aglets, see Aygulets 

Agraste, did so much aggrace ; 
showed so much grace and favour 

Agrise, to dread and fear greatly ; 
to astonish, to give abhorrence 

Aguise, to put on an ai)pearance; 
to set off after a new manner 

Albe, albeit, although 

Algutes, by all means, any way, 
wholly, nevertheless 

All, altogether, wholly; also used 
for although 

Alia Turchesca, in the Turkish 



804 



GLOSSABT. 



Allege, alleviate, lighten 

AlleggeauTice, alleviation, ease, com- 
fort 

Alew, howling, lamentation 

Aloofe, at some distance 

Alow, low ; the a added 

Als, also 

Amaine, with vehemence 

Amate. 1. to subdue, to daunt, to 
distress, to terrify. 2. To asso- 
ciate with, to keep company 

Amearsd, fined 

Amenage, manage, carriage 

Amenaunce, carriage, behaviour 

Amis, apparel, garment 

Amoves, moves; the particle a is 
added 

Annoyes, annoyances, injury, mis- 
chief, hurt 

Aniicks, antique odd figures of men, 
beasts, birds, &c. 

Apall, to discourage, daunt, terrify 

Aj}at/, to pay, content, satisfy, re- 
quire 

Appeach, impeach, accuse, censure 

Appele, it seems to be used for accuse 

Arable or Arahy, Arabia 

Arhorett, a flowering shrub 

Aread, Areed, show, advise, declare, 
tell 

Areare, backwards; a lagging or 
backward pace 

Areeds, advices, discourses 

Arew, in a row together, all toge- 
ther 

Arke, chest or coffer 

Arraught, did reach, seize on; 
reached, snatched, seized 

Array, order, apparel, dress 

Arere, backward 

Arret, sometimes signifies decree 

Askaunce, to look askance, enviously, 
obliquely, sideways, awry 

AslaTce, to appease 

Aspects, appearances 

Assay, proof, trial, attempt, attack 

Assoile, to free, to quit. Assoiledt 
absolved, discharged 

Assot,to besot, deceive, make a fool of 

Assotted, stupified 

Assynd, marked out 

Asiart, to startle 

Astond, Astound, astonished 

Atchievement, enterprise, or perfor- 
mance 



At eant, instantly 

Ate, did eat 

Atone, i. e. friends again ; at one ; 
Atoned, reconciled 

Attacht, apprehended, laid hold on 

Attaint, it did attaint ; it seemed to 
absorb it, and to put it out by its 
superior splendour 

Attempter, tempter 

Attente, most heedfully 

Attonce, once for all ; at one and the 
same time 

Attone, bereaved, taken away alto- 
gether 

Attrapt, Attrapped, adorned 

A f ween, between 

Avale, to lower, abate, bring down, 
descend 

Avaunting, vaunting, the a super- 
added. According to Hvghes it 
signifies advancing 

Avenge, vengeance. Avengement, 
revenge 

Aventured, it seems to be of the 
same signification vnth couehed 

Avize, Avyse, Avise, to perceive, to 
consider. To behold, to observe, 
to be sensible of. Hughes 

Avour, confession, acknowledgment 

Aumayld, enamelled 

Awarned, warned, premonished 

Awhape, to astonish, to terrify 

Aye, ever 

Aygulets, tagged points 

B. 

Bace, low, the lower parts, the 

bottom 
Bad, asked, entreated, prayed 
Bajfuld, baffled, beat, defeated 
Bailie, power, a limit, a bound 
Bains, banns 

Baiseinains, compliments* respects 
Bale, evil, mischief, misery, sorrew, 

burden 
Baleful, sorrowful, unfortunate, full 

of harm 
Balke, to disappoint, bafHe, frustrate 
Bannerall, a little flag v.orn by 

knights on the top of their lojacea 
Bannes, curses. To Ban, to cm*se. 

Band, did curse 
Barbed, embossed, adorned as the 

trappings 



OIOSSAKT. 



805 



Barbesy bosses or ornaments in the 
trappings of a horse 

Barbican, an outer-work, gate, or 
watch-tSDwer 

Base, unto the base, below, bottom 

Bases, any coverings for the legs 

Basen, as. Big looks basen wide, 
i. e. extended as with wonder 

Basenet, a helmet 

Bashed, abashed 

Basted, wrought slightly, sewed 

Bate, did beat^ Hughes. Did hite^ 
Upton 

Battill, to grow fat 

Bauldrick, a belt ; Bauldrick of the 
heavens, the zodiac, in which are 
the twelve signs 

Bay, to bark, Faerie Queene, Book i. 
Canto 7, Stanza 3 ; it signifies to 
bathe, cherish, or foment. To 
hold or keep at bay, is the hunter's 
phrase of the stag, when the 
hounds are haying, or barking at 
him 

Bayt, to rest 

Beacon, a raised building of com- 
bustible matter, to be fired in order 
to give notice to distant people of 
invasions. Upton 

Beadmen, prayer-men 

Beadroll, properly a catalogue of 
prayers, but used for a catalogue 
in general 

Beard Jiim, afiront him to his face ; 
brave him 

Beare, a bier 

Beathed in fire, hardened in the fire 

Beavy, a company 

Beauperes, equals, fair companions 

Bed, for hid, to pray 

Bedight, dressed, adorned 

Bedyde, dyed 

Begored, smeared with gore 

Behaved, kept within bounds 

Behest, command 

Behight, or hehote, called, named; 
khA sometimes bid, promised, gave 

Behoofe, convenience 

Belamay, fair friend 

Belamoure, a lover 

Belayed, laid over 

Beldame, good lady, good dame 

Bell-accoyla, fair reception, kind 
salutation 

Bellgards, beautiful looks 
35 



Bellilonet fair maid 

Bends, bars placed cross-ways, a 

term in heraldry 
Benempt, bequeathed, named 
Bent, the propensity or inclination ; 

sometimes yielding or complying 
Bents, rushes, bent grass ; bulrushes 
Bere, sometimes signifies weight, 

pressure, or bearing 
Bereave, to bereave, to take away 
Beseeic, beseech 
Beseem, to become, to grace, to look 

seemly 
Beseen, well beseen, i. e, courtesy, 

bearing a good aspect, handsome 

treatment 
Besits, becomes 

Besprint, or Besprent, besprinkled 
Bestadde, ill-used, distressed 
Bestead, beset, oppressed ; III bestead, 

bad plight, condition 
Bet, did beat 
Betake, took into his hand, bestow 

upon 
Beteem, deliver, bestow 
Betide, happen to, befaU 
Betight, betide, befall 
Bever, the sight or visor of a head- 
piece 
Bevie, a company, a troop 
Bewray, to discover 
Bickerment, contention, strife 
Bidding his beads, saying his prayers 
Bilive, forthwith, immediately 
Bittur, a bittern 
Blame, reproach 
Blatant beast, detraction represented 

as a monster 
Blaze, to divulge, or spread abroad 
Bleard, dimmed, darkened 
Blemishment, blemish, stain 
Blend, not only to mix, but to spoil 

with mixing, to confound. It 

also sometimes signifies to blind 
Bless, Spenser has used this word to 

signify the wavmg or brandishing 

of a sword 
Blin, to cease, give over 
Blist for Blest, blessed, B. iv. C. 7, 

St. 46. But in B. vi. C. 8, St. 13, 

all about so blest, i. e, iujuied* 

wounded 
Blive, forthwith, presently 
Bloosme, blossom. Pronounce It 

bloom, B. iv. C. 8, St. 2 



806 



GLOSSAET. 



Bode, did abide 

Bolt, an arrow 

Bond, bound ; kept as bond-slaves 

Bonnihel, a fair maid 

Boon, favour, request, petition 

Boot, advantage, help, profit 

Bootless, unavailing, unprofitable 

Bord, to, to accost, to approach, 

Bord, a jest 
Bordragings, ravagings or incursions 

on the borders 
Barrel, rude, clownish 
Basse, a protuberance in the middle 

of the shield 
Boughts, circular folds, or windings 
Boulted, sifted 

Bountr^, goodness, generosity 
Bourn, a brook or rivulet 
Bouxing can, a large drinking-pot 
Bowre, often used for an inner 

chamber or private apartment. 
Brade, for broad 
Brag, proudly 

Braided, knitted, plaited, wreathed 
Brakes, bushes, brambles, fern 
Brame, vexation ; Breem, fierce 
Bra7id, sometimes a fire-brand, some- 
times a sword 
Bransles, brawls, a sort of tune 
Brast or Brac'dy burst 
Brave, not only valiant and bold, but 

fine and spruce 
Brawned hours, well-sinewcd arms 
Bray, sound shrill 
Breme, cliill, bitter 
Brenne, to burn 
Brent, burnt 

Brigandine, a COat of mail 
Brigantine, a swift vessel for sea 
Brigants, robbers, free-booters 
Brockage, pimping 
Brand, Brand-iron, vide Brand 
Brooke, bear, endure, digest 
Brunt, violent attack, accident 
Brush, small wood, brush wood 
Brust, burst 
Bruteness, sottishness, stupidity, 

brutishness 
To buckle, to buckle on armour; to 

prepare for battle 
Buffe, a blow, bufiet 
Bug, a bugbear 
Bugle, a small bugle-horn 
Burganet, a helmet 
Burgein, to spring forth or bud 



Briskets, little bushes 
But, unless, except 
Buxone, yielding 
Biilive, See Bilive 
Bifnemjjt. See Benempt 

C. 

Camis, Camus, a thin gown 

Can, is often used, as gan, began 

Canon-bit, that part of the bit which 

is let into the horse's mouth ; the 

ruling bit 
Capias, a special warrant 
Capon, a cock cut; metaphorically 

a cow-herd 
Caprefole, woodbine, honey- suckle 
Captive, to captivate 
Captivaunce, captivity 
Carke, care 

Carle, a clown, a churl 
Carol, to sing songs of joy 
Carven, to cut 
To Cast in one's mind, to think, to 

contrive. Cast is also used for 

time, or a throw 
A Cast offaulcans, a set of falcons 
Castory, beaver's oil 
Causen, to argue or debate 
Cav'd, made hollow 
Caytive, Caitive, mean, vile, captivc, 

slave 
Certes, certainly 
Cesse, cease 
Cesure, a cutting off. 
To Chafer, to bargain, to traflac, to 

exchange 
Chamelot, stuff mixed with camel's 

hair, camlet 
Chamfred, bent, crooked 
Charmes, tempers, orders 
Chast, chased 

Chaufe, anger, heat, wrath 
Chaunticlere, so named from chaunt- 

ing or singing with a clear and 

silver voice 
Chayre, charily, with great care and 

caution 
Checklaton, a kind of chequered or 

motley stuff 
Checkmate, a word borrowed from 

the game of chess 
Cheere, countenance, air, mien 
Cherry, for cherish 
Chevalrie, knighthood, knightly ex- 
ploits 



GtOSSAET. 



807 



Chevisaunce, atchievcment, enter- 
prise, feat, performance 

Chiefric, principality 

Chylded, brought forth 

Circumvent^ to beguile 

Clame, call 

Cleped, called, named 

Clouch, gathered together 

Colled, embraced 

Colourable, counterfeited 

Commen, commune, discourse to- 
gether. Also to come 

Comment, devise, feign 

Compare, procure 

Compast creast, his crest compassed 
around, or well-rounded, propor- 
tioned, or framed 

Compeld, called upon 

Complot, a plot, combination, or con- 
trivance 

Comportance, beliaviour, carriage 

Compylde, brought together 

Con, to learn, to know 

Conceipt, imagination, fane/ 

Concent, harmony 

Cone re w, to grow together 

Connd, learned 

Condigne, worthy 

Conge, bow, reverence, leave 

Conspiring, agreeing in sentiment 

Constraind, tormented, made uneasy 

Containe, hold together 

Contecke, contention 

Contrive, spend, consume, reckon, 
count, invent, imagine 

Convenable, agreeable 

Convent, to summon to appear 

Convince, to convict 

Coosen passiojis, kindred passions 

Coportion, a portion or share with 
you 

Corb, crooked 

Corbes, ornaments in buildings, 
brackets, or shouldering pieces in 
wood-work 

Cordwayne, Spanish leather, so called 
from Corduba in Spain 

Coronal, crown, garland 

Cosset, a lamb brought up without 
the ewe 

Cotes, sheep-folds 

Cott, floating cottage, a little boat 

Could, as Could his good to all; i. e. 
dispensed his bounty 

Count, account, reckoning 



Counfercast, a counter contrivance or 
cunning 

Counterchange, mutual exchange 

Counter feasaunce, counterfeiting, dis- 
simulation 

Counterprise, counterpoise, w.eigb 
equally 

Counterstoke, an opposite stroke 

Counter vayle, sweet counterwayle, i.e, 
pleasing requital 

Couplement, union, marriage, coup- 
ling together 

Cour'd, for covered, hung over, leant 
over 

Court, courteousness, pleasantry 

Couth, to know or be skilful ia 

Cowheard, coward 

Cragg, neck 

Crakes, boastings 

Cranks, same as C rankles; t. e. turn 
ings, windings 

Craples, claws 

Craven, coward, or cowardly 

Credence, belief 

Crooke, gallows 

Cruddy-blood, crudled, coagulated 

Crumenal, purse 

Culver, (Saxon word,) dove, pigeon 

Culverin, a piece of ordnance 

Curat, Curiets, Curats, thus differently 
spelled ; armour for the back and 
breast 



Dadale, skilful, artificial 

Damnifyde, injured, impaired 

Dan, an old title signifying master 

Darrayne, to hazard, venture, at- 
tempt, or prepare to fight 

Barred larke, alluding to catching of 
larks by what they call a daring 
glass 

*Dayes-man, umpire, arbitrator 

Baynt, dainty, delicate 

Day r' house, dairy-house 

Deaith, dealeth, gives 

Dearnly, Dernly, eagerly, earnestly 

Dearnely, sadly 

Debonaire, sprightly, courteous, good, 
kind 

Decetto, deceit 

Decretals, a volume of the Canon 
Law, or books containing the de- 
crees of sundry popes.— -^A>a»r# 
Diet, 



GLOSSAEY. 



Decrewed, decreased 

JDeemen^ deem, suppose 

Dfifeasaimce, defeating 

Defeature, destruction 

Defend, keep off, forbid 

Defetto, defamation 

Deffly, finely or nimbly 

Define, to end, to determine or de- 
cide 

Defould, defiled or brought to shame 

Defrayed, furnished 

Delayed, put away, removed 

Delices, delight, pleasure 

Delve, a pit or hollow place 

Dejneane, treatment 

Demeane, De.mayne, demeanour, car- 
riage, behaviour; sometimes it 
signifies to debate, Demeasnure, 
Demeanure, as above 

Dempt, deemed, adjudged, supposed 

Dent or Dint, blow 

Depeinten, painted 

Derring doe^ bold deeds, manhood, 
chivalry 

Descrive, describe 

Despiteous, spiteful, malicious 

Dessignment, plot, conspiracy 

Desse, a seat 

Deviseful, full of rare devices or in- 
vention 

Devoir, duty 

Diapase, a term in music including 
all tones 

Dight, to order, prepare, dress, adorn 

Dilate, enlarge upon 

Dirk, dark, or to darken 

Disadvaunce, to withdraw, to stop 

Disaventurous, ill adventurous, un- 
happy, unlucky 

Discided, cut in two parts 

Disclosed, disengaged, untied 

Discure, discover 

Discicst, shaken oflf, to remove, or put 
away 

Disease, for uneasiness 

Disentrayled, drawn along floatingly 

Dishahled, lessen'd 

Disleal knight, perfidious, traitorous 

Disloignd, Disjoined, remote, far 

Disynayd, ugly, ill-shaped 

Dispence, consumption, expense, pro- 
fusion 

Disple, discipline, correction 

Disport, sport, diversion, pastime 

Viijyredden, spread, difiused around 



Dispurveyanee, want of provision 
Disseized, made to quit or relinquish, 

dispossessed of 
Dissolute, languid, broken, B. i. C. 7, 

St. 51 
Disthronized, dethroned 
Distinct, varied, marked, beset 
Distraine, i. e. draw it, or break it 

asunder 
Distraught, drawn aside, distracted 
Dites, orders, directions 
A Ditt, 2L ditty, a song 
Doale, a dealing out 
Doale or Dole, sorrow, portion 
Doe, doe 7iim not to dye, put him not 

to death 
Dofte, do off, put off 
Dolor, Dolour, grief, pain, sorrow 
Doole, complaint, sorrow, pain, grief 
Don, to do on, to put on 
Dortours, dormitories, or lodgings 

for monks 
Doted, doting, impaired 
Doucepere, from the French, les 

douze pairs : one of the twelve 

peers of France 
Doughtie, stout, valiant, courageous 
Drad, dread, dreed, dreaded; to be 

feared, honoured, reverenced 
Drapets, linen clothes 
Draught, a military detachment, 

B. ii.C. 20, St. 51, resemblance 
Dreare, Drere, sorrow, sadness 
Drent, drenched or drowned 
Dreriinent, heaviness, sorrowfulness 
Drerihedd, a sorrowful and dreary 

state 
Drest, ordered, prepared 
Drevill, a driveller, a fool 
Drift, impulse, force, or driving on, 

purpose 
Drowsyhedd, drowsiness 
Duresse, confinement, imprisonment, 

hardship 

E. 

Earne, Erne, to yearn, to be moved 

with compassion 
Earst, Erst, first, first of all, at first, 

before, formerly 
Easely, gently 
Easterlings, the Germans so called 

by the Britons 
EatA, easy 



GLOSSABY. 



Eeke^ Elce, also; it signifies likewise 
to add, to increase, to augment 

Effierced, made fierce and mad 

E force, to force open, also to violate 

Effraide, frightened, afraid 

Eft, again, lilcewise, soon 

Eftsoones, again, presently, quickly, 
forthwith 

Eglantine, sweet briar, or wild rose 

Eld, old age 

Elf, a fau:y. Elfin, the adjective of 
Elf 

Elles, else, already 

Embuce, to lessen, make base, dis- 
honoured 

Emhar'd, shut up ^ 

Embattled cart, a warlike chariot 

Embay, to bathe ; also to cherish and 
delight 

Ejnbayld, inclosed; also made up 
into bales or packs 

Embosofne, entertain 

Emboss, has different significations 
— Arms ernbost, arms of embossed 
work. Embost with gold, raised as 
in relievo. Embost with pearles, 
raised or overlaid. In case embost, 
hid, concealed. The salvage beast 
embost in weary chace, meaning 
hard run and weajied out. To 
embosse his speare in his body, i. e. 
to lodge, to inclose. But the most 
difficult place seems in B. iii. C. 1, 
St. 64. Embosse themselves in so 
glorious spoile, probably from the 
Italian Imboscarsi, i. e. by ambus- 
cade to avail themselves of so 
glorious a spoil. — Upton, 

Embowed, imbewed, arched ; covered 
archwise 

Emboyled, emboyling wrath, B. ii. 
C. 5, St. 18; the same as Boyled, 
Boyling 

Embrave, adorn, make brave or fine ; 
to dress 

Erne, an uncle by the mother's side 

Emparlance, a law term, used in pe- 
titioning the court for respite 

Empeach, to hinder 

Emperill, quartos; folios Imperillt 
endanger 

Emperisht, perished, gone to ruin 

Empight, placed, fixed 

Emprize, enterprize, undertaking 

Enaunter, lest that 



Enchased, engraven, adorned 
Encheason, occasion, accident, cause 

or reason wherefore any thing is 

done 
Encomberment, molestation 
Endosse, to write on the back, to 

engrave 
Endurd, hardened 
Endurcn, endure, continue 
Enfeloned, hurried on by wicked and 

felonious intents ; become fierce 
Enfouldred smoke, smoke mixed with 

flame 
Etiglut, satiate, glut 
Engore, to pierce, to prick; to make 

bloody or gory 
Engorged yre, anger rising to the 

very gorge or throat ; anger which 

cannot be suppressed 
Engraffed, ingrafted, implanted 
Engroste, made tliick 
Enhaunst, raised, lifted up 
Enrace, Enroot, implant 
Enriven, torn asunder 
Enseams, i. e. fattens 
Ensew, follow. Ensude, followed 
Ensnarle, insnare, intaugle as a skein 

of silk 
Entayle, engraving 
Entayled with anticks, engraven or 

carved with images 
Enterdeale, meditation, negotiation 
Enterprize, sometimes signifies to 

give reception to one 
Entertake, to entertain 
Entirely, or entyrely, earnestly 
Entrailed, intermingled, interlaced, 

interwoven 
Enure, accustom to, make use of, 

practise 
Enured, effected, committed 
Envy, to vie with, emulate, refuse to 

give 
Errant Knights, who travel about the 

world seeking adventure 
Eschewed, avoided. Eschew, avoid 
Esloyne, withdraw to a distance; 

separate 
Espial, sight, spying 
Essoyne, excuse for not appealing 
Evengely, gospel 
Ewftes, efts, newts, or cvets, Upttm, 

Lizards, IIugheH. 
Ewghen low, a bow of yew 
Exanimate, lii'elcss, dead 



810 



GLOSSIBT. 



Excheat, accident, or a property 
' fallen to any one in any thing 
Expire or ExpyrCy to bring forth, to 

breathe forth 
Esprest, pressed out, squeezed out 
Exterpie, to extirpate, to root out 
Extreat, extraction, drawing out 
Eyas Hawke, a term in falconry, 

signifying a young hawk newly 

fledged, and fit for flight 
EynCt EiWi eyes 



Fade, to vanish, to perish, to go away 
Faine, doest faine, are desirous 
Falsed, falsified, deceived 
F'are, to go. Faring, going on 
Fatal read, prophetical advice. Fatal 
errour, a wandering voyage or- 
dered by the Fates 
Fat/, faith, truth ; sometimes it signi- 
fies a fairy 
Faytor, doer. False faytor^ a de- 
ceiver 
Fealty, fealty or homage 
Fear €71, to frighten 
Feculent, foul, full of dregs 
Fell, fierce, cruel; also gall. Felly, 

fiercely, cruelly 
Fellonest, most fierce 
Feminitee, w^omanhood, state and 

dign'ty of a woraaa 
Fere, a companion. Ferres, com- 
panions 
Fei'me, 2iS fleslily ferme-, fleshly prison 
Fest, feast, for the rhyme 
Fet, Fett, fetch 
Feutred his speare,io set his spear in 

his rest 
Field, is often used for fight, combat, 

battle 
Fiaiint, warrant 
Fine, end 
Firmes his eye^ keeps his eye steady 

and firm 
Flatting, flat 
Flight, arrow 

Flit, Fleet, swift. Upton. To fluc- 
tuate, to be in motion. Hughes. 
Flourets, blossoms, or little flowers 
Foemen, foes 

Foile, leaf. Golden foile, leaf gold 
Foind, pushed 

Folke-mot, a meeting or assembly of 
talk or people 



FoUring-tongue, faltering, falling, oi 

tripping 
Fon, fool. Fond, foolish 
Fond, did find, for the rhyme 
Fone, foes 
For by, near to 
Fordoo, undo, destroy, ruin 
Forehent, seized, caught hold of 
Forelent, lent beforehand 
Foresay, renounce, Upton. Foresaid^ 

forbid, Hughes 
Forestall, to interrupt 
Forethink, to repine or be concerned 

at anything 
Forewent, forsook, went out of their 

way 
Forgone, lost, neglected, forsaken 
Forlore, Foi'lornCy lost, forsaken, 

wretched 
Forpined, much pined, consumed 
Forray, to ravage, spoil 
Forslackt, delayed 
Forslow, delay 

Forswat, exhausted with sweat 
Forswonk, wearied, over-laboured 
Forthy, therefore, wherefore, why 
Fortilage, sort 
Forworn, much worn 
Foster, for forester 
Fouldring, thundering, blasting with 

lightning 
Foysen, plenty 

Franchise, to free or set at liberty 
Franjion, one of too free or loose 

behaviour 
Frankelin, a freeman or a gentleman 
Fray, to frighten 
Freakes, whimseys, mad actions 
Frenne, stranger 
Frett, to eat, consume. It is used in 

another sense ; to frett, to adorn ; 
fretted, adorned 
Fre:ie, a warm kind of woollen 

clothing 
Frory, froze, frozen 
Frounce, curl, crisp 
Froivy, frowzy, mossy, musty 
Fry ofchildri>n, fry, spawn 
Furniment, furnishing, furniture 

G. 

Gage, pledge, pawn, security 
Galage, a wooden shoe 
Game, *twixt earnest and game, b©» 
twixt earnest and jest 



GIOSSARY. 



811 



Gattt for be^an 

Garres, causes ; aS, garres tJiee greet 

Gate, a way 

Gazement, gazing 

Geare, stuff, attire, furniture, equi- 
page, dress 

Geasoji, uncommon, perplexing 

Gelt, a gelding. Ujiton. Geltt gold. 
Hughes 

Gentlessey the behaviour of a gentle- 
man 

Gerinan, brother, or near kinsman 

Gerne, yawn 

Gests, deeds, actions, exploits, feats 

Giambeanx, boots, greaves, armour, 
for the legs 

Gibe and geare, joke and jeer 

Gin, begin. Gin, engine, contrivance 

Giusts, jousts or tournaments ; more 
particularly single combat on 
horseback with spears and swords 

Glade^ a passage; generally for a 
passage cut through a wood 

Glavet a sword 

Glee, mirth 

Cle7i, a valley 

Glib, a curled bush of hair hangmg 
down over the eyes 

Glitterand, glittenng 

Glode, did glide, glance, or swiftly 
pass 

Gloxing speeches, flattering, deceit- 
ful 

Gnarrct to snarl or bark 

Gondelay, properly a Venetian 
wherry 

Goodfyhead, godliness 

Gore, pierce 

Gorge, throat 

Goi'get, armour defending the throat 

Grange, a granary, barn, farm 

Grayle, some particles or gravel. 
Also used in B. ii. C. 10, St. 53, 
for the sacred dish in the last 
supper of our Saviour 

G reave, for grove 

Gree, liking, satisfaction, pleasure 

Greet, to exclaim, cry out, complain 

Gride, Gryde, to strike, wound, 
pierce, or cut tlirough 

Gricfful, full of grief 

Griple, one that snatches greedily, a 
griping miser 

Groom, shci)herd, herdsmoa 

Groyndt grunted 



GuarisJi, to garnish, to dress out gor- 
geously 

Gueld, a guildhall 

Guerdon, reward, recompence, prize 

Guilers, clieats 

Guise, Gulxe, way, fashion, manner, 
Upton. Form, habit, condition, 
Hughes 

Gyre, circling, turning round 

H. 

Ilaherjeon, armour covering the neck 
and breast, Upton. Armour co- 
vering the head and shoulders, 
Hughes 

Hahiliments, apparel, clothing 

Hable, fit, ready, able, apt, nimble 

Hacqueton, a piece of armour 

Hafendeale, in partition 

Halidom, Holy Dame; an oath by 
the Virgin Mary 

Han, for have 

Harbrough, harbour 

Hardy, brave, bold. Hardiment, cou- 
rage, boldness 

Hardyhood, Hardyhead, a brave state 
of mind 

Harrow, to lay waste, to destroy 

Harrow! an interjection and excla- 
mation, showing distress 

Hash, a wicker basket to carry fish 

Hauberg, Hauberque. Vide HaheV' 
jeon 

Haught corage, high mind 

Hauht, embraced 

Ueast, Hest, or Behest, command, pre- 
cept 

Heben bow, a bow made of ebony 

Hedeguies, a sort of country dances 

He7n, them 

Hend, to take hold of 

Hent, seized 

Herbars, herb?, plants 

Herried, Heried, to praise, to cele- 
brate. 

Hersal, rehearsal 

Hidder and shidder, he and sho 

Hie, to go, to hasten 

Hide, hastened 

Hight, named, called 

Hi Id, covered 

Hit ding, a term of reproach 

Hold. 15. ii. C. 2, St. U, the hold of 
the castle is put for the castle it- 

. self 



812 



GLOSSAEY. 



Hole, so spelled in the 1st and 2nd 
quartos, in the folios vcliole^ B. iii. 
C. 12, St. 38 

"Boody condition, state. Frequently 
used in compounds, as knighthood, 
priesthood, widowhood, &c. 

"Hore, hoar, hoary, Upton. White ; 
sometimes it signifies squalid, fil- 
thy, rough, Hughes 

Hostry, an inn 

Hoty Hote, from Highff was named, 
called 

Housling fire, sacramental fire 

Hove, for heave 

Having, hovering, floating 

Humhlesse, humility 

Hurlen forth, rush forth 

Hurtle, to rush with violence 

Hurtling, rushing, thrusting 

Hymen io Hymen, the nuptial song at 
weddings, invocating the god Hy- 
menssus 



la'cel, seems to signify a slandering 

fellow 
Jdlesse, idleness 
Jesses, straps of leather fastened on 

the hawk's legs when held in the 

fist 
Jmpacdble, so the quartos and folios. 

But Hughes, implacable 
Impcy child or offspring 
Impeach, sometimes used by Spenser 

in the sense of tlie French word 

empecher, to hinder 
Importable, not to be borne 
In, Inn, Inne, an inn, a chamber, a 

house 
Incontinent, immediately, instantly, 

forthwith 
Tndigne, unworthy 
Infant, the Prince, B. ii, C. 8, St. 56, 

&c. 
Infcrd, brought on 
Infest, deadly 
Ingate, entrance 
Ingowes, ingots 

Intendement, attention, understand- 
ing, thought 
Interesse, interest 
Jntreat, speak of, treat of 
Intuse, contusion, bruise 
Joilyhead, a state of jollity 



lomsanoe, loyauncct rejoicing, diver 

sion 
Ire, IVe, wrath, anger 



Keep, care, heed, custody, charge 

Keeping, guard 

Keight, caught 

Ken, Kenn^ to know, to spy, to dis- 
cover 

Kend, Kent, knew, kenned 

Kerns, countrymen or boors 

Kesars, Keasars, Emperors, Csesars, 
Czars 

Kest, cast 

Kestrel, a sort of hawk of the basei 
breed 

Kidstt dost know 

Kight, a kite 

Kilt, for killed 

Kirtle, a woman's gown 

Kond, kend, knew 

Kynd, nature. Kyndle, natural 

Kynded, begotten 

Kyne, cows or herds 

L. 

Lad, led, did lead 

Laid, taint 

Lare, Zaire, lair of a deer 

Latched, caught 

Lay, a song. Layes, songs, poems 

Lay, the earth or ground 

Laystall, a place to lay dung or rub- 
bish 

Laxars, leprous persons 

Leach, surgeon or physician 

Leare, Leares, Leres, doctrine, learn- 
ing, science 

Leasing, lying 

Leavd, levied, raised 

Ledden, language, dialect 

Leef, or Lief, willing. As lief, more 
willing 

Leese, lost 

Legierdeinayne, sleight of hand 

Leman, sweetheart, concubine, mis- 
tress 

Lenger, longer 

H Envoy, the epilogue after a copy of 
verses 

Lest, listen 

Lever, rather 



GIOSSAKT. 



813 



Leven^ lightning 

Levin-brond, thunderbolt 

Lewdly, ignorantiy 

Jjibbardy leopard 

Lich, like 

Liefe^ dear. Liefer^ Levevt dearer, 

Liefest, dearest 
Liege-lord, sovereign lord. Liege- 

man, who owes allegiance to the 

liege -lord 
Lig, or Liggen, to lie 
Lignage, lineage, or descent 
Lilled out his tongue, for lolled out, 

&c. 
Lime-hound, a blood-hound 
Limiter, one that goes about selling 

indulgences 
Lin, ta lean, give way. Sometimes 

to cease or give over 
Lincolne-greene, a species of cloth 

manufactured at Lincoln 
Lists, ground inclosed for tilts or 

tournaments 
Lite, alight, get oflf horse 
Lived mortally^ i. e. lived among 

mortals 
Livelod, livelihood, maintenance 
Livelyhed, liveliness, life, spirit 
Livery and seisin, law phrases 
Lone, a thing lent, a loan 
Long, belong 

Loord, as lazy Loord, idle fellow 
Lordings, sirs, masters. A dim. of 

lord 
Lore, learning, instruction 
Lore, for Lorn, left, lost 
Lorel, Loself a liar, cheat, a loose 

fellow 
Lover, or Loover, a chimney or open- 
ing in the roof of a cottage 
Lout, to bow servilely, to crouch 
Lugs, perches 
LusJc, LusJcish, Luskishness, a lazy 

disposition 
Lustlesse, listlessly 
Lustyhed, lustiness, vigour 
Lustlesse, weak, not lusty 
Lyte, light on, settle, fall on 
Lythe, soft 

M. 

Mage, magician, enchanter 
Magnes stone, tlie load-stone 
Uahoune, Mahomet. By Mdhoime, 
a Saracen oath 



MaJca, a mate, consort. To maks 
(verb), to compose verses 

Malefices, evil deeds 

Malicing, bearing of malice 

Maligne, maliciously, abuse 

Maltalent, ill-will, spite 

Mand, manned, furnished, filled 

Manner, behaviour, carriage 

Mantleth, displayeth his wings. A 
term in falconry 

Many, company, B. iii. C. 9, St. 11, 
&c. 

Marge, margin, brim 

Mark ivhite, the white mark 

Martelled, hammered, beat 

Mas, used for divine service 

Mated, conquered, subdued 

Maugre, in spite of, against one'8 
will, notwithstanding 

Mayle, a coat of mail 

Mazed, stunned 

Mazer bowl, properly a bowl of 
maple 

Meane, means, conditions, occasion 

Meare, a meer, limit, or boundary 

Medle, to mingle 

Meed, reward, prize 

Mell, to intermeddle 

Mene, did mean, intended 

Ment, mingled 

Merciabls, merciful 

Mercifyde, pitied 

Meritnake, merriment 

Mesprise, neglect, contempt, scorn 

Met, meet 

Mew, a place to mew hawks ; any 
place shut up 

Mickle, much 

Mieve, for move 

Mincijig minion, finical alTected dar- 
ling 

Minime, a minim in musio 

Miniments, toys, trifles 

Minished, for diminished 

Mirk, dark, obscure 

Mirksome air, obscure, foul 

Miscreated, created amiss, ill be- 
gotten 

Miscreant, originally signifies iufideli 
or one of a wrong belief 

Misdone, for misdo, i. e, to do auiiss 

Misfare, misfortune 

Misleeke, dislike 

Mister, manner, sort, art, mysteiy 

Mistereth not, needs not 



S14 



GLOSSASr. 



Mistrayned, wrongly trained, in- 
structed amiss; or misled, drawn 
aside 

Mis ween, to misjudge, interpret 
wrongly 

Misivent, gone astray 

Mo, Moe, more 

Mochel, much 

Moldwarps, moles 

Mome, a stupid fellow 

Monasters, a monastery 

Mone, sorrow 

Morion, head-piece, helmet 

Mote, must, might 

Mott, did mete or measure 

Moulds, grows mouldy 

Mountenaunce, the amount of any- 
thing, quantity, distance 

Mowes, making of mouths 

Muchel, much 

Munificence, subsidies, aid, benevo- 
lence 

Mured, inclosed 

Muzd^ mused 

N. 

Nar, near, or nearer 

Nas, has not 

Nathless, Natheless, not the less, ne- 
vertheless 

Nathernore, Nathemoet never the 
more 

Ne, neither, not 

Needments, necessaries 

Nempt, named 

Nett, neat, clean 

Newell, novelty 

Newfangienesse, a love of novelty 
and changes 

Nill, will not. Cont. for ne will 

Nimblesse, nimbleness ' 

Noblesse, nobility 

Nonce, for the iiojice, for the occasion 

Not, Note, know not. Cont. for ne wot 

Nould, would not 

Noule, the crown of the head 

Nouriture, nurture, education 

Noursle, to nurse 

Noijance, harm 

Noyd, annoyed or hurt 

NoyouSf hui'tful or baleful 

O. 

Obsequy, funeral ritea 
Offai, refuse, dross 



Ordele, a trial by fire, water, oP 
combat 

Overcame, came over it 

Overcraw, to crow over, to hisult 

Overhent, overtook 

Overgrast, overgrown with gras3 

Gverraught, reaching over 

Overrcd, did read it over 

Overwent, overwhelmed 

Overweening, self-conceited, opinion- 
ated 

Ought, owned 

Ought the more, the more at all 

Out-well, flow out, yield out, dis- 
charge 

Out o//ia»rf, forthwith 

Out-ivin, get out, win the way out 

Owches, bosses, or buttons of gold 

r. 

Pace, go. 

Painim, pagan, infidel 

Paire, impair, diminish 

Palfrey, a horse i most commonly a 

lady's pad 
PaU, a robe 
Paled part per part, a phrase in 

heraldry 
Palmer, a pilgrim 
Panachca, an universal medicine 
Pannikell, the skull, the crown o the 

head 
Paragon, an example, pattern ; com- 
panion, or fellow 
Paramour, a lover 

Paravaunt, peradventure, by chance 
Parbreake, vomit 
Parture, dej^arture 
Pas, go. Also surpass, exceed 
Pass, B. iii. C. 1, St. 19, signifies 

here, country, land, region 
Pavone, peacock 
Paunce, a pansy, or violet 
Payne, pains, endeavour 
Peark, brisk 
Peece, a fort, a strong place, citadel, 

B. i. C. 10. St. 59, &c. 
Peise, poise. Paysd, poised 
Perdie, Fr. par Dieu, an old oath 
Pere, companion. Pcre*, companions, 

equals 
Pe regal, equal 
Perforce, by force 
Perling, purling, trickling down 
Perloust perilous diingeruus 



GIOSSAET. 



815 



Penaunt, piercing 
Persue, pursuing, pursuit, or chase 
Pheer^ companion 
Physonomyy physiognomy 
Picturals, paintings 
Pight, placed, pitched, fixed 
Pillt to rob, to pilhige 
Pine, to pine, to waste away 
Pionings, works of pioneers 
Plaine^ to complain 
Plai?it, complaint 
Pleasaunce, pleasure 
Plesh, for the rhyme, a plash 
plight, circumstance, condition 
Point, armed comjjletely, Hughes. 
Car'd 7iot for God or man a point, 
not at all, not a tittle, Upton. 
Armed at all points, ibid. 
Poize, weight 
Polaxe, or battle-axe 
Pols andpils, plunders and pillages 
Port, behaviour, carriage 
Portaunce, comportment, carriage 
Portcullis, a falling gate ; a gate to 
let down or draw up at plea- 
sure 
Portesse, a breviary, or prayer-book 
Pouldred, reduced to powder 
Pousse, pease 

Poynant, poignant, sharp, piercing 
Practicke paine, the cunning prac- 
tice, plot, and endeavour 
Prank, Some prank their ruffles, i. e. 
exhibit forth, and proudly show. 
Prankt in reason's garb, pom- 
pously set forth, arrogantly tricked 
out 
yr^ace, press, throng, crowd 
Prest, prepared, ready at hand. 

Sometimes for pressed 
Pretended, shown forth, held out 
Prick, to prick as with spurs 
Pricking on the plaine^ riding on the 

plain 
Priefe, proof 
Prive, prove 
Prise, scuffle, fight 
Procurd, solicited, entreated 
Propense, weigh, consider, premedi- 
tate 
Proteme, extension, drawing out 
Prow, brave ; Prower, braver ; 

Proucst, bravest 
Vuissaunce, valour, power, might. 
PuittaiU, powerful, mighty 



Purfled, flourished with a needle, 
Hughes. Embroidered or decorated 
as with embroidery, Upton 

Purpose, discourse, talk, words 

Purvay, provide 

Puttockes, bitterns, kites. So Gloss, 
to Chaucer 

Pyned ghost. Vide Pme 

Pyonings. Vide Pionings 

Q. 

Quadrate, a square 

Qtiaid, subdued. Perhaps instead 

of qualed or quelled ^ 

Quaile, to subdue, to quell, Upton. 

Quaile, to languish, Hughes 
Quaint, nice, curious 
Quarle, B. ii. C. 11, St. 33, contracted 

from Quarrel, shaft, arrow 
Quarrey, prey 
Quart, the western division; the 

fourth part 
Quayd. Vide Quaid 
Queem, or Queam, please 
Queint, quenched 
Queint elect, quaintly or oddly 

chosen 
Quell, sometimes used for to die 
Quest, adventure, exploit 
Quich, to quicken, to stir 
Quight, to deliver, to free 
Quip, taunt, flout 
Quite, to requite 
Quited, requited, returned 
Quook, did quake, did sha 

tremble 

R. 

Race. Vide Rast 

Rad, for did read ; or guessed 

Raft, Reft, bereft, bereaved, Upton, 
Kent, tore, Hughes 

Raid. Vide Ray 

Raile, adoicne their sides did raile, 
i. e. flow or run along 

Raine, region. Rayne, rule or king- 
dom 

Ramp, to paw, or fly out, like a mad 
horse 

Rank, in order 

Rausakt, plundered, trifled, violated 

Rapt, in rapture 

Rash, mailes did rash, did break, did 
shiver in pieces 

Rast, Razed, erased, effaced 



816 



GLOSSABY, 



Rathe, early 

Raught, reached, did reach 
Ravin, rapine, spoil, ravening 
Ray, to discolour, beray 
Ray, for Aray, ornament, furniture. 
Also for in ray, in array, in order 
and rank 
Read, Reed, to advise, warn, pro- 
nounce, declare, interpret, guess, 
divine. Likewise counsel, advice, 
prophecy 
Reave, to bereave, or take away 

violently 
^ecedifyde, rebuilt 
Rebut, rebound, recoil, repel 
Reck, care, reckon, account 
Reclayme, call back 
Recoure, recover 
Recule, Recuilet tO recoil, gO back, OP 

give way 
Recreant, out of hope, untrusty, 

cowardly 
Redoubted, reverenced, honoured, 

feared 
Redounding tears, abounding and 

flowing over 
Regiment, rule, government 
Relate, bring back 
Relent his pace, to slacken, to stay 
Reliven, to live again 
Remercied, thanked 
Rencounter, accidental fight, or ad- 
venture 
Renforst, reinforced 
Renfierst, reinfierced, again made 

fierce and bold 
Renns, for runs 

Renverst, turned upside down, over- 
turned 
Replevie, to redeem, to recover by a 

replevy 
Repriefe, reproof 
Reprize, to make reprisals 
Reseized, reinstated, in possession 

again 
Resiant, lodged, placed, resident 
Retrate, Retraitt, picture, portrait; 
air of the face. Also retreat, fall 
back, give ground 
Retyrd, drawn out 
Reverse, recal, return 
Reverse, dress again, to clothe again 
Rew, to rue, pity. Rew, a row. In 

a Reu\ in a row 
Ribauld, a debauched fellow 



Rife, frequent ; fully, abundantly 

Rift, gap, cleft, chink, or crack 

Rive, to cleave asunder. Riven, rent, 
split, torn asunder 

Rode, inroad 

Ronts, young bullocks 

Roode, a cross 

Rosiere, a rose-tree 

Rote, harp, or crowd 

Rove, didst rove, i. e. didst shoOt thy 
roving arrows 

Rowndell, a round bubble 

Royne, to bite or gnaw 

Rue. Vide Rew 

Ruffs, ornaments for the neck, of 
plain or ruffled muslin or cambric 

Ruinate, brought to ruin, over- 
thrown 

Ruing, pitying. Rufully, pitifully 

Ruth, pity 

Rybauld. Vide Ribauld 

Ryfe. Vide Rife 

Ryved, Vide Rive 



Sad, grave 

Safe her, her excepted 

Salewed, saluted 

Saliaunce, sally, or assault . 

Salve his hurts, to cure, to remedy 

Salved, saluted 

Sam, same; sometimes it signifies 

together 
Samite, satin 
Say, a thin sort of silk stuff. A sword 

of better say, of better proof, assay 
Scarmoges, skirmishings 
Scath, harm, mischief 
Scatterlings, scattered rovers or 

ravagers 
Scerne, discern 
Sclave, slave 
Sclaunders, slanders 
Scord, marked, engraved 
Score, reckoning 
Scorse, exchange 
Serine, Scryne, chest, coffer 
Scruxe, squeeze out, press out 
Scryde, descried 

Sdaine, disdain. Sdeigned, disdained 
Seare, dry, consumed, buinicg, 

parching 
See, seat, habitation 
Seely, silly 
Selcouth, uncommon 



GLOSSAEY. 



817 



Seht a seal-fish 

Select sJiapes, chosen, elegant 

Sell, saddle 

Semblaunt, show, pretence, appear- 
ance 

Seminary, a nursery 

SenescJiell, a president, governor, or 
steward 

Sens, used for since 

Sent, the scent, the smelling out 

Sew, follow. Sewings following. 
Sewed, followed 

Shallop, a boat 

Shawmes, musical instruments, 
Psalm xcviii. 7. Shawm is 
thought to signify a hauthoy 

Sheene, B. ii. C. 1, St. 10 

Shend, to disgrace, to blame, to 
spoil 

Shere, pure, clear 

Shrieve, to, to act the part of a con- 
fessor. Shrift, or Shriwing, con- 
fession 

Shright, shrieked. Shrightes, shriek- 
ings 

Sh7'ill, to sound shrilly 

Shrewd, to, to shelter. Shrouded in 
sleep, covered, sheltered 

Shyne, shining, brightness 

Sib, related, of kin 

Sich, for such 

Siege, seat, bench, throne 

Sient, a graff, sprig, or young shoot 

Sight, sighed 

Sike, such 

Siker, sure, surely 

Sikerness, sureness, safety 

Simples, simplicity 

Sin, used for since 

Singulfes, Singulis, sighs, SObbingS 

Sit, sits not, suits not. Ill it sits, it 
ill agrees, ill becomes 

Sith, since that 

Sithes, times 

Sithens, since that time 

Slug, to grow sluggish 

Smouldry, hot, sweltering 

Snar, to snarl 

Snarled haire, i. e, entangled, as a 
skein of silk 

Sneb, to snub or check 

Snubbes, knobs or knots in wood 

Sods, turfs, clods of earth. 

Sold, salary, hire; a soldier's pay 

Sommc, the sum, substance 



Soote, sweet, or sweetly 

Soothlich, soothly, true 

Sort, company. In sort, in such sort 
or manner 

Soucing, plunging, falling 

Souldan, Soudan, Soldan, a king, 
tyrant, sovereign 

Souvenaunce, remembrance, recollec- 
tion 

Sowndes, inlets of the sea between 
headlands 

Sowne, sound. With s7iriel:ing sowne, 
B. iii. C. 4, St. 30 

Soyle, the prey, the soiled beast 

Space, walk about, range about 

Spalles, shoulders 

Sperre the gate, bar or shut the gate 

Spersed air, for dispersed air 

Spill, to spoil, to destroy 

Spilt, shed, scattered over 

Spire, to breathe 

Sprent, sprinkled 

Springal, a youth, a stripling 

Spyals, espials, spies 

Spy re, it doth spire forth, or grow up 
to the fairest flower 

Stadle, staif 

Stales, incitements, devices, tricks 

Stank, weary or faint 

Starke, stiff with cold 

Star-read, doctrine of the stars, as- 
tronomy 

Steane, for stone 

Sted, place, seat, station, situation 

Steeme, smoke. Steemed, had ex- 
haled 

Steemed, esteemed 

Stent, stint, stay, stop 

Stept, steeped, soaked, wetted 

Sterne, tail 

Sterve, to perish, to die 

Steven, sound, noise 

Stire, stir or move 

Stole, a garment, a matron's robe 

Stotid, stand, station 

Stonied, astonished, or stunned 

Stoond. Vide Stonied 

Stound, Stownd, space, moment, sea- 
son, hour, time 

Stoup, in falconry, when the hawk on 
wing strikes at the fowl 

Sto7ir, Stowre, fight, stir, trouble, 
misfortune, fit 

Straine, Sirene, race, descent, family, 
origin 



818 




OSSABY. 



Strayt, B. ii. C. 7, St. 40 

Strcsse, distress '-'^~ 

Stye, to ascend, to mount up 

Subverst, subverted, overthrown 

SuccessBy succession 

Suffused eyes, bedewed, suffused with 
tears 

Suppressing, keeping under 

Supprest, ravished 

Surbet, wearied 

Surcease, stop 

Surquedry, pride, presumption 

Sute, suit, petition, request 

Swart, swarthy, black 

Siuarving, swerving, giving way, 
going from 

Sway, management, direction, rule, 
motion 

jSweath-bands, swathe or swaddling- 
bands 

Swdt, burnt, suffocated with heat, 
fainted 

Swerved, moved, wandered out of his 
place 

Swinck, labour 

Swoiind, a swoon or fainting fit 

T. 

Targe, a buckler or shield 

Tassel, Tossel, a twisted or bushy or- 
nament of silk, gold, or silver. 
Tassel gent, a gentle, tame male 
haw^k 

Tcade, a torch 

Teene, Tine, Tyne, trouble, mischief, 
injury 

Tenor, the middle part next the 
base 

Thee, thrive, prosper. - Well mote ye 
thee, B. ii. C. 1, St 33 

Thewes, manners, quahfications, cus- 
toms 

Thilk, this, that 

Tho, then 

Thralled, enslaved 

Thralls, slaves 

Thrill, to pierce through 

Throw that last bitter throw, pain, 
pangs. So mighty throwes, strokes, 
blows. To sleep a throwe, a small 
while or space 

Thrust, Thirstie, thirst 

Tickle, slippery, unstable, ticklish 

Tide, awhile, time, season, an hour 

Tight, tide 



Tind, kindled, excited 

Tire, rank, row, as a tire of ord- 
nance 

Tort, wrong, injury 

Totty, dizzy, tottering 

Touzd, tugged and hauled about 

Tract by tract, by tracing, by tract 
and footing 

Trade, tread, trace, or footstep. Do 
Trade, do walk 

Train, Trayh, the train or tail. 
Likewise used for treachery, de- 
ceit 

Tramels, nets 

Translated, turned them to 

Transtneiv, to transform, transmute 

Trat2sverse, awry, out of order 

Trast, followed as by tract or foot- 
ing 

Traveile, labour 

Treachour, Treachetour, traitor 

Treague, a truce, cessation of arms ; 
agreement 

Treen, of a tree, wooden 

Trenchand, Trenchant, cutting sharp 

Troad, path, footing 

Troiv, b5!ieve, imagine, conceive 

Truss, to, a term in falconry, when 
the hawk raises his prey aloft, and 
then descends with it to tho 
ground 

Turnament, Turneyment, Turney, a 
sort of single combat on horseback, 
commonly with lances 

Turribant, a turban 

Tway, two; in Tway, in two. Uii 
Twaine, his couple 

Tweght, twit, upbraid 

Twitin, to blame, to upbraid 

Twyfold, twofold 

V.U. 

Faded, gone 

Valaw, value, worth, valour 

Vantage, profit 

Vauncing, advancing 

Vaunt, to boast 

Vellenege, rather villinege, the mean- 
est and lowest of tenure 

Venery, hunting of wild beasts, B. L 
C. 6, St. 22 

Venger, revenger 

Ventayle, the fore part of the helmet, 
to give vent or air to the face by 
lifting up 



GLOSSaEY. 



819 



Venteth into the wind, snuffs the wind 

Vere the maine shete, turn, shift 

Vetchy bed, (Shep. Cal.) bed of pease 
straw 

Vildey vile 

Virelays, a kind of songs 

Visnotnie, physiognomy, visage, as- 
pect 

Umhriere, the visor of the helmet 

Uncouth, unusual, strange, harsh; 
odd, deformed 

Underfong, attempt by unfair and in- 
direct means 

Undertime, the afternoon, towards 
the evening, B. iii. C. 7, St. 13 

Undight, not dight, disordered ; 
loosened, untied 

Unneath, diflficult, scarcely, with dif- 
ficulty. Sometimes it signifies 
almost 

Unhele, to discover, to bewray 

Unherst, took them from the hearse 
or temporary monument where 
they were usually hanged, B. v. 
C. 3, St. 37 

Unkempt, unadorned, or void of grace 
or elegance 

Unkend, not known 

Unlich, unlike 

Unpervaide, unprovided, not fur- 
nished 

Unrest, disquiet, uneasiness 

Unsoot, unsweet 

Unwares, unexpectedly, incautiously, 
unwarily 

Unweeting, unknowing, unawares, 
ignorant • 

Unwist, not thought of, unknown 

Uphrast, burst open 

Upbrayes, upbraidings, reproaches 

Upwreaked, unrevenged. 

W. 

Wage, a pledge; likewise reward, 
wages 

Waift, a stray 

War, worse 

War-hable, able or powerful in war 

Ware, wary, cautious. Ware, did wear 

Warelss, stupified 

War-old, old in war or strife 

Warray, to make war upon, to ha- 
rass with war 

Warriouresse, a woman-warrior, an 
Amazon 



WatcJiet, pale blue 

fFau-e*. waves, Upton. JFiortre*, waves, 
perhaps for woes, Hughes 

Way, weigh, value, esteem 

Wayment, to bewail, lament 

Wayne, Waine, chariot 

Weal-away, Wele-awuy, alas ! 

Ween, Weenen, imagine, judge 

Weet, to know. Weeten, to wit 

Weetless, unknowing 

Wefte,watted. Wefte, waved, avoided, 
put off 

Weft (noun), a stray; whatever 
wanders and is lost 

Well, did well, spring, flow. To 
Weld, to move, to wield, to govern 

Wde, weal, welfare 

Welke, to set, decrease, wither; to 
grow faint 

Welkin, the sky, firmament 

Welter, to wallow 

Wend, to go. Wend, for 

Weened, imagine 

Went, way, journey, Upton. Going, 
course, Hughes 

West, to, to set in the west 

Wex, to increase, to grow 

Whally, full of whales 

Whatso, whatsoever 

Whenso, whensoever 

Whilojne, Whylome, formerly, some- 
while ago 

Whist, hushed, silenced 

Whit, a little part 

Whot, hot 

Why lea re, erewhile, sometime before 

Wicked herbes, noxious, poisonous 

Wield, Weld, manage, handle, govern, 
direct, turn, sway, &c. 

Wight, creature, person 

Wightly, quickly 

Wimble, shifting to and fro 

Wiwpled, folded over like a veil 

Wise, guise, appearance 

To Wis, to know. Wist, thought, 
knew 

Wife, blame, reproach 

Withhault, withholden, withdrew 

Woe begonne, far gone in wte, over- 
whelmed 

Wonne, is used in two senses; in the 
first, for to overcome, gain the 
victory, from to irm. In Ww se- 
cond place, for to dwell, Xq inhabit 
from the German uom.n 



820 



GLOSSAET. 



TFon, to use, to be wont 
Wont, custom, manner 
Woo, to court, or win by courting 
Wood, mad. Woodness, madness 
Wot, to know. Wotent, knowest 
Wowed, wooed, for the rhyme 
Woxed, waxed 
Wrast, wrest, for the rhyme 
Wreake, to revenge. WroTcey re- 
venged 
WreaJcful, revengeful 
Wrest, wrist 
Wrizled, wrinkled 
Wroken, wreaked, revenged 
Whyle, beguile 
Wliyte. Vide Wite 

Y. 

Ybet, beaten 

Ybent, bent, inclined, addicted 
Yblent, blinded, or confounded 
Ybrent, burnt 
Yclad, clad, clothed 
Ycleped, called, named 
Tdles.se, idleness 
Ydrad, Ydred, dreaded, feared 
Yearne, earn, get, procure 
Yede, Yeed, Yeade, to go 
Yeoman, sometimes signifies ser- 
vant 
Yerks, yerks, jerks", lashes 
Yeveny gi-rsii 
Yferet in company, togetheff 



Yfostered, fostered, nourished,broiigIit 

up 
Yfraught, freighted, loaden 
Yf retted, the same as fretted 
Ygoe, gone 

Yit, yet ; for the rhyme 
Yli'ne, alike 

Ymagery, images, figures 
Ymolt, molten, melten 
Ympe, Impe, offspring 
Ympty grafted on, fixed on as a graff 
Yod, Vide Yeed 
Yold, yielded 
Yond, beyond 

Yore, of yore, anciently, formerly 
Youngth, youth 
Younker, a lusty young man 
Ypaid. Vide Apaid 
Ypent, pent up, or folded like sheep 
Ypight, placed 
Yplaste, placed 
Yplight, plighted 
Yrapt, wrapt in ecstasy 
Yre, ire, anger 
Yrent, rent 
Y rived, rived, riven 
Yroke, Ywreaken^ Ywrokerty wreaked, 

revenged 
Ysame, collected together 
Yshend, to spoil, to disgrace 
Ywis, Iwis, truly, indeed ; to my own 

knowledge. Sometimes used ex- 

pletively, sometimes ironically 



fHB 33131^ 









.-0' x^ 



^ . ^'^.. 



0. V ^- A^ 



^OO"^ 






^, * « I ■> V <- • " f 







cP 






^^" 






%- v^' 



.# 






X^°^. 



^'^M 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process 
Neutralizing agent; Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Feb. 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

^O A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATIOK 

^ 111 Thomson Park Drive 

3> Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 

^ (724)779-2111 









X ^,;^:?^.^ '^. ^ 



.■*" - .^ 



,0 o. 






-^^ ' , 



<^% 






■'^^- ,^^'' - H 



■x^^'% ''■ 









c^^ .-^ 






■■^-^ ^\ 



o 0' '- ^ i 









y^W_ C .V 



C^% ^> 



x^^' ^^. 



-o 






^^Li-^^ >^ 






,0^ S 



^ o. 



,0o^ 






% 



'/ 












^ 



■■^o<S' 






.^^ -^^^ 






.0- 



V' - ■ 



t, '- 






.-.^^ % 



A-^' 



x-Js^ . 



v 










.0^ 



0' 



